


How To Win A Losing Game

by JayJFox



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Andrew Minyard Has Feelings, Andrew Minyard is an Asshole, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Aaron Minyard, But There's A Little Light In The Tunnel, Destructive Twinyards, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt Neil Josten, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jealousy, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, The Twins Hate Each Other, The Twins Really Fucking Hate Each Other, Vengeful Andrew Minyard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:22:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayJFox/pseuds/JayJFox
Summary: When Andrew found Aaron, he thought he found a family. Instead, Aaron screwed him over and took everything away from him.Now Aaron wants Neil Josten, and Andrew's hell-bent on getting even.It's an easy game to win: he'll impersonate Aaron, make Neil hate him and walk away.But Andrew takes things one step too far and crosses a line that lets his demons consume him. He's losing it all. The war with his brother. His own peace. Neil.Except, Neil is a bit of an expert of winning losing games, and he might be just the right person to save Andrew from himself.OR The one where Neil fixes the Twinyards. Again.***Please read the notes for trigger warnings***
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten/Aaron Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 122
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I KNOW, Aaron's kinda evil but Andrew is an ASSHOLE. What if I promise Neil will get to punch him in the face? Ok. Done.
> 
> As noted in the tags, trigger warnings for mentions of self-harm, depression, panic attacks and past abuse. 
> 
> I LOVE your comments. Living for them, you're awesome!

Andrew Minyard doesn’t believe in revenge. 

But as he stands outside a cafe near PSU, watching his twin making eyes on a redhead boy and smiling like the boy is the sun itself, he reconsiders. 

Maybe revenge is underrated. Or maybe Andrew just believes in getting even. He doesn’t care which of the two it is. 

The redhead boy sits in the middle between a tall black-haired girl and Aaron and talks animatedly, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Andrew pulls the black hood over his head a little lower to his eyes. What is this? Aaron’s friend? Best friend? Something more than that? It certainly looks like the latter, but Aaron is straight, right? It can’t be. 

Except Andrew has seen Aaron’s _head-over-heels_ face, and it looks _exactly_ like that. Tiny sparks in his eyes and a little blush high in his cheeks, blinking twice as fast as usual. After all the crap Aaron has given him when he found out Andrew was gay, this scene here is downright hilarious. The fucking hypocrite. 

Andrew turns on his heel and leaves. 

What is he doing? What the _fuck_ is Andrew doing here? He shouldn’t have come. Fuck Aaron and his fake Aaron 2.0 version. He’s been a little shit since Andrew met him when they were both fifteen. It’s a good thing Andrew didn’t give him a heads up for the visit. It's all his therapist's fault, really. He suggested coming here and _trying_ to talk to Aaron in a civilized manner would help him. Fucking idiot. There is nothing that can fix Aaron and him. Not after everything Aaron has done to Andrew. Not anymore.

He has a ten-hour drive back to Washington to dissect every little shit Aaron Minyard has done since they met. The list is longer than a car manual. 

*******

Three days before the start of the semester, Andrew stands at the lobby in Aaron’s dorm with a copy of the courses he’s taking in his pocket. He can’t believe how easy it was to transfer from his college in Washington to PSU. Actually… Nevermind. The right connections can make everything easy, and Andrew just happened to know the right people. 

He even managed to get himself in the same dorm building as Aaron (not in the same room thank fuck for that), pulling some ridiculous bullshit about sibling bonding. Andrew quickly comes up with a dozen scenarios he can pull off if he doesn’t share a room with his brother.

He shares a room with a rather moody jock on the soccer team, John something, really unimpressive. The man barely says anything and best of all—he doesn’t show any sign of recognition when he sees Andrew’s face. Good. Aaron’s boring enough not to catch anyone’s attention, and for once this is a good thing. 

Andrew can still see the sparkles in Aaron’s eyes when he was looking at the redhead boy in that cafe three weeks ago. The image sends fire in his guts. He hates Aaron. He hates the bastard _so fucking much_. 

He waits curled up in a corner, almost out of sight, until he sees his twin walk through the elevator door and out of the building. Aaron wears a fake smile and a deadly serene expression. It’s ridiculous that most people think Andrew is the unstable one when Aaron has done everything to prove he's a soulless nutjob. 

When the coast is clear, Andrew takes the elevator up to Aaron’s room on the fifth floor. His twin lives with Kevin Day, a snobby asshole on the Exy team. Andrew knows well enough who Kevin Day is. One has to live under a rock not to know Kevin Day, the son of Exy, currently being nursed into fandom by his daddy, the Foxes’ coach. In fact, Andrew was offered a scholarship in PSU and a spot on the Foxes’ line-up after high school, which he immediately refused when Aaron signed up for the stupid biochemistry program in PSU. Out of spite, of course. Aaron would go a long, long way to make sure Andrew ends up as miserable as his twin is. 

After that, Andrew decided to quit Exy for good. Until now. He’s already made arrangements for a try-out in two weeks, feigning an ankle injury and claiming he needs time to heal. That should be enough time to set his plan in motion. He has to lie low until then.

Kevin Day left the room an hour before Aaron, and Andrew doesn’t expect him to be back soon. Practice is longer than that. That gives Andrew enough time to check his twin’s room. 

He picks the lock and, as expected, finds the dorm empty. By the end of his little visit, he has Aaron’s and Kevin’s schedules, an imprint of their spare key, and a tiny microphone device planted under the coffee table. And the redhead boy’s name. Neil. Aaron apparently doesn’t understand fucking computer protection.

Let’s see how you deal with that, asshole. 

Later that night, Andrew finds the way to the rooftop. It’s still warm at night in SC. Andrew takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting himself swim in memories. 

_He’s thirteen, and Jesus fuck he has a brother. A brother! A fucking, real family, the same blood in his veins and he’s out there._

_He’s fifteen, and looking at Aaron sitting across the table from him in juvie feels unreal. He never wanted to meet Aaron like that, but he had no choice. It was either that or Aaron in Drake’s fucking claws. Aaron looks scared. And nervous and soft. He’s nothing like Andrew, and still… still._

_He’s seventeen. Aaron’s face is bruised. Again. He’s crying in front of the bathroom mirror and doesn’t know Andrew’s there in the room. He’s warned Tilda. He has. And yet, she hit Aaron again. Andrew is really tired of people taking him and Aaron for punching bags. This has got to stop. It will stop. He just needs time._

_He’s eighteen. He watches Aaron, smug smile on his face and hatred in his eyes, deeper than a fucking ocean. Andrew clutches his phone, staring at the message from his best friend, the only person he’s ever trusted, Alex._ Don’t ever call me again. _He needs to know what the fuck happened. What the fuck has Aaron said to him. And then he sees the armbands on Aaron’s wrists, the fake piercing on his left ear, identical to Andrew’s, and he knows. He knows Aaron has done something Andrew couldn’t repair. Alex never speaks to him again._

_He’s eighteen, holding a knife to Maria’s throat. She’s Aaron’s girlfriend and Andrew wants this to hurt. He tells her he’ll gut her like an animal if she ever comes near him again. It seems fair; Aaron took Alex away from him. Maria breaks up with Aaron the next day._

_He’s still eighteen. Aaron has a neat heart-to-heart with Nicky, their only cousin. Andrew doesn’t know what Aaron told him. Nicky stops answering Andrew’s calls._

_He’s nineteen, he’s finally away from Aaron. He’s in Washington, starting his first year in college, and fuck everything else. Aaron was a mistake and Andrew doesn’t repeat mistakes. He’s already sacrificed enough for his treacherous twin._

Andrew leans over the railing and sees him. A small redhead, holding a cigarette between his fingers. He stills by one of the benches, and the soft light of the streetlamp bathes his face in amber. Neil. Andrew recognizes him immediately. The boy never takes a drag, just hold the cigarette and inhales the smoke. Then he heads down the streets toward the Foxhole court. The place is locked at this time of the night, anyway, so where is Neil even going? Andrew pulls the sleeves of his hooded shirt down and rushes downstairs. 

He catches up with the boy as he sneaks through the backdoor of the stadium. Andrew follows. 

He finds Neil sitting on one of the last rows in the audience benches, staring at the plexiglass box. Andrew walks closer, clearing his throat. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hey, I thought you were seeing your biochem mates tonight.”

“Oh. Yes. Well, I sneaked out. Saw you coming in.”

Neil smiles. It’s soft and yet, daring, and it feels like a punch in the guts. “Stalker.”

“I can go,” Andrew says. 

“Don’t be stupid. I don’t mind the company.”

Andrew sits next to him. From this close, he can sense Neil’s wood-scented cologne. Neil doesn’t say anything for a long time, just stares at the court like he’s seeing something invisible to Andrew. Andrew doesn’t push it. He likes the silence. 

If there really is something between Aaron and Neil, there’s no sign of it. Anything _romantic_ that is. But at this point, Andrew doesn’t care what it is. As long as Aaron cares. As long as it will hurt him in the end. _He doesn’t care what it is._ He only cares he will get a few points in his favor to even the score. 

That’s the least he can do after Aaron took so much from him.

Neil sighs loudly and breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something and it’s so close it drives you crazy?”

Andrew doesn’t look at him. This hits too close to home. “You could say that.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I don’t. I let it go.”

“Why?”

“It was too painful.”

“What if it is too painful to let go?”

Andrew shifts uncomfortably. Damn it, the little shit is playing a late-night philosopher. Andrew has to change direction before he gets lost in this. This is a game. Just a game. “If this is about lovey-dovey stuff, we’re too sober.”

Neil laughs. Fucking hell. If Neil’s smile was a small punch in the guts, his laugh is the blow that knocks the air out of Andrew’s lungs. “If that’s the type of sensitivity you’re planning on using to win Katelyn over, you’re screwed.”

Katelyn?

“It’s not.”

Neil raises an eyebrow. “Is that a confession? Seriously? Is Aaron Minyard finally confessing he has feelings for a certain cheerleader? Wait. Is this real? Am I imagining things?”

Andrew fakes a laugh. “I do not. Have feelings.”

Neil punches his shoulder lightly. “I’m messing with you. I know it’s annoying that people keep hooking you both up just because you study together. Honestly, I think it’s stupid.”

Andrew hums in agreement. “Maybe they got it all wrong.” Alright, here goes nothing. 

“What do you mean?” Neil turns to look at him, straddling the bench. 

It’s dark, but Andrew can still see Neil’s face in the fading light from the streetlamps. He has a scar on his cheek, high cheekbones, and full lips, and he’s ridiculously attractive. Andrew remembers his eyes from the cafe; devastatingly blue. They look dark now, with something burning in them that feels like a storm, like a tide wave dragging Andrew under. Neil is the kind of thing that can mess up Andrew’s head. Dangerous. Gorgeous. Aaron does not deserve something so perfect. 

Well, alright, that’s why Andrew is here, after all. To make sure he doesn’t get it. 

He shakes his head chasing the thoughts away. 

“I mean, what if I… What if my interest is… elsewhere.” Good. He couldn’t be any vaguer than that. 

Neil studies his face carefully. “Then that’s your business and no one else’s.”

“Right,” Andrew says. 

He very deliberately brushes his knuckles over Neil’s knee, a ghost of a touch really, barely there, watching his eyes grow wide. Neil lets out a small, shaky breath. Oh, perfect. So there _is_ something. There is no way Neil is straight. No fucking way in hell. 

Andrew clears his throat. He makes a show of tapping over his pockets, feigning concern. 

“What is it?” Neil says. 

“Oh, um... I think I dropped my phone somewhere here. Can I use yours to call myself?” Andrew knows perfectly well that his phone is on a perpetual silent mode. 

Neil takes his phone out and hands it over. Andrew steps back, searching through the contacts, and quickly blocks Aaron’s number and replaces it with his own, then dials, disconnects immediately, and looks around the seats with a fake searching look. 

“Hmm. I might have left it in my dorm. I don’t know. I remember I had it.”

“You want to call Kevin to find it?”

Oh, shit! “No. It’s fine. I’m going back anyways. I probably left it in the bedroom.”

“Okay.”

Andrew hands Neil’s phone back, accidentally brushing his thumb over his knuckles. Alright maybe no so accidentally. The deer-in-headlights look is back on Neil’s face. God, it’s so easy. Andrew is going to turn Neil into a mess way faster than he expected. 

If only he knew what exactly Aaron had said to Alex all those years ago. That would make the whole thing ironic as fuck. From Aaron's perspective. 

“Okay, I should probably go,” Andrew says, taking a cautious step back. 

“Yeah. Right. Sure. I’ll… I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I suppose.”

Andrew gives him one of his smiles that he uses when he’s flirting with random guys in night clubs. It always gets him what he wants. Neil looks like he’s not breathing. 

Andrew leaves the stadium with a tiny sting in his stomach. 

Fuck that. He can do this. He can be just like Aaron. He can _be Aaron_. They’re the same fucking DNA for crying out loud. 

It will take some careful planning, a back-and-forth game with Neil stuck between Andrew and Aaron. Just enough push to put everything in motion. Neil obviously wants it. Andrew just has to push him in Aaron’s arms. Judging by the way Aaron looks at the redhead, it will be a cakewalk. And just when Aaron thinks he finally has what he wants, something he doesn’t want to lose, then....

Then.

It’s payback time. Andrew will take away what Aaron wants, just like his twin has done it to Andrew. 

He can do this. Fuck Neil. Neil is just a pretty face, and if he likes Aaron he obviously has a terrible judgment of character that needs fixing. 

It won’t be a problem. 

It’s just a game, isn’t it? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning* Dub-con!  
> And yes, Andrew will so pay for this shit.
> 
> The tag “Andrew Minyard Is An Asshole” is there for a reason.  
> 

The best thing about Aaron, if there is anything that can be called _good_ about the asshole at all, is that he’s a creature of habit. It’s been two years since he last met Aaron face to face, right before Andrew left for Washington. But his brother hasn’t changed that much. That is one point in Andrew’s favor. He follows his twin and Kevin Day to the gym in the morning and sneaks into the locker room. If he wants this to work, he needs more control. Aaron's locker isn't even locked. Andrew snatches his twin's phone and tries a few passcodes. His fucking birthday. Can you possibly be dumber than this? What the hell kind of security passcode is your own birthday? Whatever. Not his fucking problem.

He deletes his contact from Aaron's phone and changes Neil’s phone number to his own. Game fucking on, asshole.

Andrew follows Aaron when he meets Neil in that same cafe where he first saw the redhead. There’s something different about Neil. The way he looks at Aaron, it’s softer. Andrew's words and closeness last night haven't gone unnoticed, then. Neil goes as far as brushing a hand over Aaron’s shoulder and the blond melts into it. His ears flush pink. 

Andrew was right. A little push is all he needs to get the ball rolling. 

By midafternoon, Andrew wants to slam his head into a wall and never wake up again. He’s been listening to Kevin and Aaron ramble in their door for a couple of hours. Apparently, Kevin Day is incapable of talking about anything that isn’t Exy. How Aaron puts up with this shit is beyond Andrew. But then again, Aaron is perfect at playing the good kid. Always patient and understanding and supportive. Until he isn’t. Until he digs a knife in your back so deep it takes years to recover from the blow. 

Andrew is _exhausted_. But when Kevin decides to watch Exy games in his bedroom and Aaron leaves for a pre-semester study session with his biochem colleagues, Andrew doesn’t have time to rest. He types a message to Neil. 

**To: Neil [14:34]**

_Hey, you busy?_

**Neil [14:35]**

_Is brooding in the park being busy? If so, then yes._

**To: Neil [14:36]**

_What are you brooding for?_

**Neil [14:37]**

_My uncle’s being a dick._

**To: Neil [14:38]**

_Can I come brood with you?_

**Neil [14:39]**

_I thought you’d spend your last days before the semester talking about dead people._

**To: Neil [14:40]**

_Dead people?_

**Neil [14:40]**

_Corpses, morgue shit, you know, dead people._

**To: Neil [14:41]**

_Morbid. Where are you?_

**Neil [14:42]**

_The weird pond with the water lilies._

**To: Neil [14:43]**

_Coming over._

Ah, shit. What the hell is the weird pond with the water lilies? Andrew has been here before and he remembers pretty much everything but he has no idea where that pond is. He needs to add more details in his _Neil Josten_ file.

The thing is Neil is not as easy to read as Andrew thought he would be. Andrew's lacking information that might fuck the whole thing up. Like what kind of coffee the redhead likes, or his goddamn middle name, or where he gets his lunch from. What he does know is everything PSU has about Neil on file. 

_Neil Josten. Sophomore year. Same high school as Kevin Day._

_Fastest runner on the track._

_Played Exy in high school._

_Been offered a scholarship and a spot on the Exy team, which he declined._

_Emergency contact: Jean Moreau._ That's interesting.

 _No parents' information. Just an uncle listed simply as Stuart._ No last name. Who is this guy? Madonna? 

_Spent the summer on campus._

_Tuition paid in full._

_4.0 GPA._

_Math geek. Chess club. Arts club._

Neil Josten is a puzzle made of pieces that don’t fit together. Andrew has seen recordings of Neil’s games in high school. He’s excellent. Fast as a bullet. Judging by the way he looked at the court last night, and that little heart-to-heart on the stadium, Neil wants this. He wants to play. Then why the hell isn’t he?

His emergency contact is Jean Moreau, arguably the best backliner in college league Exy, currently playing for the Trojans. Neil's friends with Kevin Day. He has a key to the stadium’s backdoor. 

Something is off about Neil, but Andrew can’t wrap his head around it yet. Not that it matters. He’s not here to solve the mystery of Neil Josten. He’s here to get his payback on Aaron. 

On the way to the park, he reminds himself that a few times. He grabs two cups of coffee from a cafe near the park, one black, one with coffee and milk—chances are Neil would be fine with one of those options. The girl at the cash register points him in the direction of the stupid pond and _it is on_. 

The thing about Aaron is that he’s glacial-slow when it comes to relationships. Not that Andrew has seen many of those, but two were more than enough. Aaron takes his sweet time drowning himself in doubt before he makes a move. 

Technically, Andrew can wait until Aaron grows a spine and moves this forward (not that he's already had _a year_ to do that or anything), but Andrew has plans that, surprisingly, don’t involve his twin. 

There is something about SC. He likes it. He likes PSU, the goddamn weather (yes, he’s turning into one of _those_ people now), and maybe, just maybe he can have another shot at Exy. He didn’t have a chance in Washington. They have idiotic rules: you either have it all figured out at freshman year or you miss your shot. Not PSU, though. Kevin Day’s father apparently operates by a different playbook. 

It's a win-win situation. Andrew gets to stay. Aaron gets to suffer. It will even the score between them, and Andrew will be in his twin’s face. All. The. Time. Reminding him what he can do if Aaron fucks with him ever again. 

It seems like a pretty sweet plan to Andrew. 

He finds Neil sitting at the edge of the pond, running his fingers over a water lily blossom. Andrew swallows. _Oh, for God’s sake, don’t get distracted now._

“Hey. You weren’t kidding. Classic brooding. Very Mr. Darcy.”

Neil turns his head just enough to look at Andrew and laughs that goddamn laugh that burns a hole in Andrew’s stomach. But it’s… fine. It’s all perfectly fine. 

“I prefer Victor Frankenstein.”

“What?”

“The brooding character reference. I prefer Victor Frankenstein.”

“Aren’t you tragic.” Andrew sits next to him and offers both cups of coffee with the writing facing Neil. He picks the black coffee. The most boring choice of a drink anyone can have. 

Neil takes a sip and his face adopts an expression that looks suspiciously like happiness. Andrew knows for a fact that black coffee cannot do that to people. Well, normal people that is. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Andrew says. 

Neil shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“That’s not what it looks like.”

“I told you, my uncle’s being a dick.”

Andrew shifts an inch closer, his thigh almost touching Neil’s. “So, um… you said something yesterday. What was it really about?”

“What, the missing out part?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Oh, well. Maybe Andrew overestimated how close Neil and Aaron are. 

His phone buzzes. Andrew takes a quick look, and suddenly his plan takes a new direction. 

**Aaron [15:36]**

_Hey, wanna hang out later?_

**To: Aaron [15:37]**

_Yes. Just us?_

**Aaron [15:38]**

_Yeah, sure._

**To: Aaron [15:39]**

_Great. I wanted to talk to you anyway._

**Aaron [15:41]**

Is everything okay?

**To: Aaron [15:42]**

_Don't worry about it._

**Aaron [15:43]**

_Neil..._

**To: Aaron [15:44]**

_Honestly, it's fine. Let's just talk later._

Aaron doesn’t reply after that. Andrew really hopes he’s home and freaks the fuck out. That would be entertaining to listen to later. 

He turns his attention back to Neil. If there’s anything Andrew Minyard knows how to do right, it is to manipulate people into doing things he wants. And right now, he wants Neil to kiss Aaron. Alright, fine, it wasn’t entirely true. Andrew wanted Neil to kiss _him_ but that would mess up his plan. And his head. And everything. But the way Neil looks at him... Once this shit is over, then... Andrew can wait. God, it would be so much easier if he could just get Neil out of his system.

It’s a risk, Andrew knows that, it's a fifty-fifty chance being too forward would scare Neil away. But he needs Neil to be in the right mindset when he meets his twin later. He brushes his knee into Neil's and studies his face, watching his breath hitch a little. Neil catches his hand and presses them both over his knee. Andrew swallows. 

“If you want to talk about it, ever, I’m here,” Andrew says, finally remembering what he meant to say.

“Th-thanks.”

Neil tenses next to him. He swallows audibly and shifts a little so he’s facing Andrew now. 

“Aaron,” he starts, and then looks away. 

“Mhm.” Andrew's voice sounds like a purr right now. Neil swallows again. 

Goddamn it! He wants to follow the sound Neil swallows down his throat. 

_Shit, Andrew! Focus!_

“Okay, so, um, it’s about… it’s about…” Neil rambles. 

“What I said last night?”

“Yes.”

Andrew brushes his thumb over Neil's knuckles where the redhead is holding his hand. He’s pushing a little too hard, Andrew knows that, but Neil’s reactions to his touch are intoxicating. It’s like the first sip of coffee in the morning, like the first drag of a cigarette, a breath of warm, spice-scented air on a cold, winter night. 

Neil eyes the slow drag of Andrew’s thumb over his skin. “Say no and I won’t do it again,” Andrew says. 

“I don’t wanna say no.”

Honestly, Andrew has no idea what the fuck is taking Aaron so long to make a move. Neil is too far gone for this to even be a challenge. 

“Okay. I just want you to know that you can. It won’t change anything. I’ll still be your friend.”

“I… I know that. I think.”

Andrew runs his thumb along Neil’s cheek. He isn’t going to kiss him. But God, he wants to, so fucking bad. 

_Stick to the plan. Just stick to the goddamn plan._

Neil is staring at his lips. The air charges with that familiar tension Andrew revels in, the sparkling moment before a first kiss with someone. And still, it feels more than that. More than just a simple kiss with someone pretty. He's had a lot of those. 

Neil’s phone rings snapping them both back to reality. The redhead looks down at the screen and frowns. 

“I… I have to take this. I should go, it’s going to take a while.”

Andrew brushes a copper curl out of Neil’s eyes and stands up. “No, don’t go. I’ll leave you to it. We’ll talk later. If you want to.”

Neil nods. 

“Hey, Stuart. No. I didn’t change my mind.” Andrew hears behind him as he leaves the pond. 

~~~

Neil paces his dorm living room trying to undo the knots in his stomach. The fuck was that? What the fuck is even happening? He’s been friends with Aaron for a year now. When he came to PSU, Kevin was the only person Neil could turn to for anything. And then he met Aaron and he made a friend, which in itself was a miracle because Neil is terrible at making friends. 

His entire list of friends over the years consisted of Kevin Day and Jean Moreau. Now, he has Aaron, Matt, Dan, and that crazy disaster of a human, Allison. He’s never looked at any of them like _that_. He’s never wanted this before. 

So why now? What the fuck changed?

It feels like a switch turned on that night on the court. Like he'd seen Aaron for the first time. What the hell was it? Neil can’t find an answer to any of his questions. All he knows is he really, _really_ wants to kiss Aaron.

When his phone buzzes, he almost trips trying to grab it from the counter. 

**Aaron [20:31]**

_Wanna meet?_

_Yes_ , Neil replies immediately. _Where?_

**Aaron [20:32]**

_The garden behind the dorms._

_Okay. Be there in five._

Neil takes a deep breath and heads to the garden. It’s fine. He wants this. He really does. There’s nothing fucking terrifying about a kiss. People do it all the time. Oh, shit, what if he sucks at it? He’s only kissed three people. Two girls he’s met during his travels around Europe, who ran away faster than he could say his fake names, and Jean. But that was an experiment so it hardly counts for shit. 

He sees Aaron, looking nervous and a little shy. He’s been on a mood swing for the last couple of days. Neil doesn’t get it. Aaron was so confident in the stadium, then a blushing mess in the cafe this morning, then so bold in the park, and now… Is this messing him up as much as it messes Neil up?

“Hey,” Aaron almost whispers. 

“Hey back.”

“So… okay, let’s talk. You said you wanted to talk.”

Neil furrows his eyebrows. “I did?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“I mean, yeah… I do, I guess. I…” _Oh for fuck’s sake, calm the fuck down._ Neil should’ve called Jean about this. He’s really bad at it.

Aaron steps closer, running a hand over Neil’s shoulder, an exact replica of the way Neil had done it in the cafe this morning. 

And it feels… He doesn’t feel _anything_. No, it can’t be right. It was all sparks and static electricity earlier at the pond, it was all tingles down his spine and flutters in his stomach. Maybe he should… Neil leans in, an inch between their lips, hesitating for too long. Aaron melts the last distance between them and presses his lips against Neil’s. 

It’s a nice kiss. It’s warm and soft and careful, and Neil wants it, it’s been driving him nuts since yesterday. It’s… nice? And Neil doesn’t feel a fucking thing.

What the _fuck_? He pulls back, looking at Aaron’s face like he can read the answers on it. Aaron’s confused, out of breath, flushed at the cheeks, and alright, maybe it wasn’t what Neil expected because there’s something wrong with _Neil_. 

“I, umm…” Neil swallows. 

“You okay?” Aaron steps back. “I didn’t mean to cross a line you didn't want me to. Oh, shit, did I? I just thought…”

Neil cups his cheek. “Hey, hey. No. Okay. You didn’t cross a line. I really wanted this. It’s just… weird. Because we’ve been friends for a long time and now… I don’t know. It feels weird.”

Aaron huffs a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I guess. But nice weird.”

“Yeah,” Neil lies. Weird is never nice.

“Alright, I know you don’t… you don’t do this, and if you want to, I mean…”

“Aaron. Shut up. It’s fine. We’re fine. Just maybe… go slow?”

Neil needs to talk to Jean. Right now. What the fuck was he thinking? 

Aaron holds Neil’s face between his palms and presses a chaste kiss on his lips and Neil wants to sink into the ground, to the center of the earth and fucking die. Because he feels absolutely nothing. 

“We can talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Neil.”

Then he’s gone. 

Neil practically bolts for his dorm and dials Jean before the door even shuts behind him. If Matt was already here, he’d talk to him about it but Matt likes to make last-minute dramatic entrances. Even when it comes to something as dull as the start of a semester. Total diva. Just like about everyone who’s ever played Exy. 

“Neil?” Neil realizes Jean must have said his name a few times. 

“Hey. Right. Yeah. I’m here. So. Something happened.”

“Like, _the_ _mafia’s on my ass again_ thing or _I just found out Dumbledore dies_ thing?”

“I _know_ Dumbledore dies, asshole!”

Jean laughs loudly. 

“Shut up. So… Aaron kissed me.”

“No shit. Finally.”

“What? What do you mean finally?”

Jean sighs. “Chéri, I know you’re oblivious for things like that but Aaron’s been into you since forever.”

“He has?”

“Oh, poor thing. Are you freaking out about it?”

“No! Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.”

Jean snorts. “Very specific. Was it a bad kiss or something?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know. You weren’t there when it happened? What do you mean _you don’t know_ , Neil?”

Neil runs a hand over his face. Fuck this shit, he’s absolutely going to die of embarrassment today. “Okay. Here’s the thing. There have been those… moments for like a couple of days. And he almost kissed me earlier today and it felt… I don’t know, amazing. And now he finally did, and I don’t feel anything. There’s no spark, like I was kissing a fucking wall. What is wrong with me, Jean?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Did you talk to him about it?”

“Sure, that sounds like a great idea. _Hm, Aaron, you know, I wanted you to kiss me but now I kinda don’t cause it feels just like making out with a pineapple, no offense._ ” Neil snorts. There’s no way in hell he’d ever say something about it to Aaron. 

“You’re being ridiculous. You don’t have to tell him you didn’t like the kiss. Just… don’t do anything you don’t want to do only because you don’t want to hurt his feelings. You’re friends. He won’t abandon you for something like this. Trust me, Neil. It’s better than lying. Just tell him you’d rather stay friends. He won’t shut you out. Aaron’s cool.”

He really is. But still, this isn’t something anyone wants to hear after just having kissed their friend. 

“Okay. You’re right. Thanks, Jean.”

When he disconnects the call, he texts Aaron. 

_Hey, so, sorry I was weird. I think we should talk about it._

**Aaron [21:01]**

_Sure. When and where?_

_Um, now? Sorry, I’m kinda freaking out._

**Aaron [21:02]**

_Neil, it’s ok. I can come over. If you want to._

_Okay. Yes._

Neil can absolutely do this. Aaron is his friend, he will understand. Neil knows nothing about relationships but he knows this isn’t how it should feel when you kiss someone you want. It’s probably all his fault. 

But Aaron will understand. Jean’s right. Aaron wouldn’t walk away from him for something like that. 

~~~

Andrew knows Aaron kissed Neil. Partly because Neil is totally freaking out, and mostly because he stalked the shit out of them and watched the whole thing through a pair of binoculars on the roof. His therapist would tear him a new one for this shit. 

Whatever. It isn’t like Andrew’s some kind of messed-up voyeur. This is his twin, after all, _his brother_. It's not like he enjoys the view. This isn’t fucking Game of Thrones. He just had to know if the plan’s going well. 

Fuck that feeling like he was suffocating when he actually saw it.

Judging by the little meltdown Aaron is having in his dorm right now, everything is going better than planned. 

Andrew changes into a long sleeve shirt, covering his armbands with the sleeves, and heads to Neil’s dorm. Neil lives with Matthew Boyd, another Exy player, who, luckily for Andrew, isn’t in PSU yet. 

Andrew knocks on Neil’s door, trying to compose himself. This can go either way, he knows as much. From where he was standing on the roof, it looked like a decent kiss. He had no idea what caused Aaron’s meltdown and Neil freaking out about it. They both seemed to want this to happen. 

Neil opens the door looking so nervous it’s almost painful to watch him. 

“Hey. Come in.”

Andrew shuts the door behind him and follows Neil to the couch. 

“Okay, let’s talk.” Andrew sits, one leg folded under him, facing Neil. “You start.”

Neil swallows. “I… You know I’ve said that… Oh, fuck, this is hard.”

Shit, he’s going to blow him off. Neil is absolutely blowing him off. Andrew plays dirty, he’s excellent at it, and offer Neil his hand barely brushing his fingertips, a ghost of a touch. Neil looks down and lets Andrew hold his hand. His face is a little flushed and confused and damn it if this isn’t the prettiest thing Andrew has ever seen. 

“Just say what you need to say, Neil.”

“I d-don’t… know.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow. “Okay. Let’s do this. Look at me, and tell me exactly what’s going on. I won’t be mad or anything, how’s that?”

Neil bites his lip. He pulls Andrew's hand in his, releasing a slow, shaky breath. 

“I’m not sure.”

“About us kissing?”

“About what’s going on.”

“Do you want to not do it again?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” Andrew is lost. Everything about Neil’s body language says he wants him. He wants to kiss him. And, yet, his mouth is saying words that don’t match this. What the hell did Aaron mess up? “If you want to say no just say it, Neil.”

Neil looks shaken. “Something’s wrong with me.”

Andrew’s eyebrows quirk up. 

Neil goes on. “Earlier in the park, it was... I don't know, I wanted to kiss you, it was all I wanted… and then you kissed me and I… it felt… weird, like… not good weird, just weird. And it’s you, it’s just you, and I want… I don’t know… Something’s fucking wrong with me, Aaron.”

Neil is shaking. He’s flushed and gorgeous and it does something to Andrew’s head that he’ll never admit to anyone. He pulls his hand out of Neil's and rearranges them, clasping it between both of his and resting them over Neil's thigh, watching his face for the smallest sign of discomfort. 

“You’re rambling,” Andrew whispers in _that_ voice. It makes Neil shiver. 

“Your hand’s pretty distracting.” Neil breathes quickly. Andrew pulls his hands away but Neil stops him. Fucking hell, this is not good. Not good at all. “Kiss me again," Neil says.

Andrew's mind goes empty. He shouldn't. He didn't come here for this. “I’m pretty sure you asked me to come here to shut this down.”

“I don't know what's... Just... kiss me again.”

The part of Andrew's brain that knows he shouldn't do this shuts down completely. He presses his hand on the back of Neil’s neck. "Sure?"

"Yes," Neil whispers, all wide eyes and parted lips and Andrew is losing his mind. 

He pulls him in. The press of their lips sends heat in Andrew’s stomach. He licks Neil’s lower lip and sneaks his tongue in his mouth, and fuck the goddamn redhead idiot, this feels like falling from a fucking skyscraper. 

Andrew’s head is fuzzy. He forgets why he’s doing this. He forgets every little shit Aaron has done to him, forgets what he’s here to do.

Neil buries his hands in Andrew’s hair, pulling him closer. Andrew’s hand slides up Neil’s thigh, and he grips his hips to find balance, and Neil chokes on a moan. 

They kiss until they’re both breathless. Neil’s pupils are blown wide, his eyes hazy, his face flushed. He’s a trembling mess, and fuck… 

Fuck. Fuck. Andrew's brain short-circuits. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew lets his own demons eat him alive and it's entirely his fault.  
> Neil doesn't like games (apart from Exy, that is).

Andrew lies in his bed staring at the ceiling. He feels gutted. Out of breath. He’s rambled for ten minutes straight on the phone to Gregory, his therapist. Well, ex-therapist. The silence is digging a hole in Andrew’s brain. 

“Greg?”

“You did _what_?” Gregory finally says. 

“Are you going to make me repeat all of it?”

“Andrew…”

“I know, I know, I’m a shit.”

“Andrew.”

“A goddamn fucking asshole.”

“Andrew.”

“What?” Andrew can’t breathe. The walls press in, the air feels too heavy. 

“I’m not your therapist anymore, which entitles me to say this. As your _friend_. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“He said yes.” He did. He fucking did. Neil said... Andrew bites his lip so hard he tastes blood. 

“Did he really?”

“He asked me to kiss him.”

Gregory releases a loud sigh. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t even know your fucking name, Andrew. Are you really that blinded by your hatred for Aaron that you’re willing to cross such lines? You of all people know—”

“Greg… I’m not… I’m not like...” Oh, great, just fucking great. Andrew chokes on the words. The room spirals. His head is dizzy, the air barely reaching his lungs. He might throw up. 

He hears Gregory curse quietly and then his voice comes soft, almost like a plea.

“Andrew, hey, hey, talk to me.”

“Can’t.” Andrew drops the phone on the bed, hears his name come softly from the speakers, and pulls himself up to sit. 

“Do that thing I told you, head between your knees,” Gregory says. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Andrew stays folded in half for a few torturously long minutes. What the fuck was he thinking? 

Gregory keeps talking until Andrew finally breathes again. 

“Talk to me, Andrew.”

“Okay.” Andrew presses both hands over his eyes. 

“I know you’re not going to like what I’ll say, but… This isn’t healthy. This isn’t going to change anything. What do you think will happen if your absurd plan works? You’ll hurt Aaron—”

“That’s kinda the point.” 

“You’ll hurt Neil and I’m starting to get you actually like the guy, so you’ll hurt yourself, too. What are you getting at the end of this?”

“He took _everything_ from me.”

“You were both teenagers. You did stupid shit. Do you really believe you’re not capable of change? Both of you?”

Andrew doesn’t say anything. So what if Aaron has changed? He still pushed Andrew’s best friend away, abandoned him, made Nicky cut him out of his life. After everything Andrew gave up for him.

“I want you to do something for me,” Gregory says in his therapist-voice. 

“What?”

“Two things. First, promise to call if things spiral out of control.”

Andrew sighed. “You always say that and I always agree to it. Do we need to do this every time?”

“Yes.” 

Gregory isn't wrong. He’s been Andrew’s therapist for two years, and ever since he started playing that promise game, Andrew hasn’t added another line on his forearms. 

“Fine. I promise. And the second?”

“I’m sending you a number when I hang up. It’s Betsy Dobson’s number. She’s the psychiatrist in PSU and a friend. I want you to book an appointment and go talk to her.”

“Really? You’re already passing me onto someone else, Greg? I’m hurt,” Andrew deadpans. 

“Don’t be a pain. You need a therapist, Andrew. I leave you for what, three weeks, and you’re already in some major bullshit.” 

“Oh, don’t take all the credit. I would’ve done it even if you were in the same city, glued my phone to my ear, and talked 24/7.” 

Gregory laughed. “You’re a menace. Call Bee.”

“Bee?”

“Betsy Dobson.”

“Aren’t you sentimental.”

“Bee is really something. You'll like her.”

When Gregory hangs up, Andrew moves to the floor and lies down. 

It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Repeating it doesn’t make anything feel better. He has a lead ball in his stomach and nausea pushes up his throat. _Are you really that blinded by your hatred for Aaron that you’re willing to cross such lines?_ Fuck. FUCK. 

He wants to stop thinking. If he doesn’t, he’ll end up on a self-destructive guilt-trip, and that never ends well. 

The recording application blinks on his laptop screen. That could work for a distraction. He opens the application and gets right in the middle of another one of Aaron’s panic scenes. 

_“Alright, will you calm the fuck down? You’re giving me a headache pacing the room like a wind-up toy.”_ That was Kevin. 

_“I don’t know. I don’t know, man. It was bad, I mean… you didn’t see the way he looked at me when he pulled back. I totally read this wrong, didn’t I?”_

_“I can’t tell you that. Neil doesn’t date. He’s never wanted to. So I don’t know, but if he says he does, then I don’t think he’s lying. That’s not something he’d lie about.”_

_“Then what the fuck did I do wrong?”_

_“Okay, not saying that your gay panic isn’t endearing, but consider that. Just a couple of months ago you claimed you were straight. What if it wasn’t bad? What if you’re just freaking out because it’s Neil? Who’s your friend. And also a guy.”_

_“Seriously, gay panic?”_

_“Yup.”_

_“This isn’t gay panic, for god’s sake, Kevin!”_

_“Oh, it so is. Been there, done that. Just talk to him, will you?”_

_“And say what? Sorry that kiss I’ve been thinking about for months was so bad you practically ran away? Sure.”_

Kevin half-sighs, half-growls. Understandable. Aaron is insufferable. _“I will go on the court. Most of the team is coming back today so it’s my last chance to practice in peace. You can continue freaking out if you want to.”_

_“Asshole.”_

_“Or you can go to the cafe. Neil’s probably already there. See how he's feeling about it and stop this shit.”_

Andrew shuts his eyes. 

Aaron doesn’t deserve anything nice, least of all something as gorgeous as Neil Josten. He really doesn’t. If Andrew has any say in this, his twin will never get it. 

But the thing is… The thing is, there’s no way Neil can hate Aaron while Andrew gets in the clear. It’s a package hate deal. And Andrew really, _really_ doesn’t want Neil to hate him. 

It’s a little late for that. Gregory is right. Andrew crossed a line, one that Neil shouldn’t forgive him for. Andrew wouldn’t, if he was in his shoes. 

Fuck it. This will end today. 

The semester starts tomorrow and people will notice someone who looks exactly like Aaron Minyard roams around campus and goes to classes that aren’t Aaron’s. 

Breathe in. Count to four. Breathe out. Count for four. Breathe in. 

Focus. 

This ends today. The score gets even. Alright, not even, Andrew would have to do a lot worse than push away the person Aaron wants to make the score even. But it’s enough. It’s a taste of what the bastard has done to Andrew, and _it’s enough_. 

Then Andrew gets to breathe again. And play Exy again. That should be fun. 

He stares at the contact name Gregory sends for a few minutes and dials Betsy Dobson.

~~~

Neil has always looked over his shoulder. At first, he looked over for his father’s blows, for an occasional knife thrown his way or Lola’s sharp eyes in the house. When his mother took him away from Nathan Wesninski, Neil looked over for his people in every country they passed through. When Nathan finally caught up with them and killed his mother, Neil looked over for anything and anyone suspicious. He was a shadow, a ghost passing through every city, leaving no trace. He talked to nobody. He trusted nobody. 

When Lola Malcolm threw a knife at his back in a dark alley in Seattle, Neil did not see it coming. He knew, then, that he was dead. 

He remembers a dark basement, a burn on his face, bruises on his ribs, cuts in his forearms. He remembers pain and empty pleas and screams until his voice broke. And then Stuart Hatford. Shooting Nathan. Taking Neil away. Putting him back together. 

Neil was fifteen then. 

He has always kept his guard up. It was second nature, the way to stay alive. Even when Stuart put him in a nice house in Atlanta, in a high-school with normal kids and shut him out of anything crime-related, he still felt like someone breathed in the back of his neck. 

Neil watched as Stuart Hatford built an alliance with the Moriyamas, as he dismantled the loose ends from both crime empires with Ichirou Moriyama at his side. Stuart got himself many, many deals that he wasn’t supposed to get. He got Kevin and Jean out of Evermore, and Kevin cried when he saw Neil again. They were free, and no one was after them, they weren't properties, investments; they were simply men of their own will. 

Those were all Stuart’s deals. Neil didn’t ask how or why. It didn’t matter.

In high-school, Jean said Neil was paranoid. And he was right. The walls were so high, no one could get over, so thick, no one could break through. He only trusted Kevin and Jean back then. 

Neil stares at his cup of coffee and something dark eats at him, like a little worm digging at his heart. He has a feeling in the back of his mind, everything feels like that one second after you step wrong and you know you’re going to fall. Something is wrong. 

The problem is, he’s let his guard down since he came to PSU. He can’t pin an exact moment, it’s more like a brick wall and it’s torn to the ground. But he remembers the bricks falling off one by one.

_He fell asleep on Allison’s couch. Woke up at dawn and didn’t run away._

_He broke a glass and cut his forearm and let Matt clean it and patch him up._

_He woke up from a nightmare and let Matt keep his arms around his shoulders until he fell back to sleep._

_He let Dan sneak up on him and cover his eyes and say ‘it’s a surprise, don’t look’ and didn’t even flinch._

_He let Allison wash his hair when he dislocated his shoulder._

_He told Matt his father’s name and didn’t feel the urge to run._

_He stopped looking back altogether._

This is why he feels like he’s missing something and it’s a huge fucking glaring thing. 

Aaron taps his finger on the glass, dragging Neil’s attention away from his coffee cup. The little bell above the door chimes when he walks in. 

“Hey.” Aaron looks nervous. 

Neil smiles, watches him go to the cash register, order a latte and shift nervously from foot to foot. And the feeling is back again. Or the lack thereof. It’s like he’s watching a wall. Nothing left of that fire that was eating him alive last night when their lips were pressed together. 

Neil takes a deep breath. He’s forgotten how to do this, how to wipe clean of emotions and think critically. Because he's let himself care too much. It’s like pushing through a thick fog. It’s disorienting. 

Aaron sits across from Neil, blowing on his latte. 

Neil bites the inside of his cheek, slows down his breathing and summons Nathaniel Wesninski. Nathaniel never misses a thing. Neil, on the other hand… 

“So, um… how are you doing this morning?” 

Neil barely manages to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Aaron has always been horrible at forced small talk. 

“I’m fine," Neil says.

Aaron smiles. It does absolutely nothing to Neil. 

When Allison barges into the cafe a minute later, Aaron frowns and Neil takes a long breath of relief. He doesn’t want to talk about any of it. 

“Hey, how are my favorite bro, and the blond garden gnome?” Allison ruffles Neil’s hair. 

“Fuck off, Alli.” Aaron glares at her. 

“Uh, touchy. Don’t be grumpy, Minyard. You’re both invited to the party in my dorm. Lots of cheerleaders. And sodas for Neil, for lack of interest in anything fun.”

Neil laughs. “Orange sodas?”

“Duh. I’ve met you before today, so, yeah, obviously.”

Aaron pushes a fake laugh and turns sideways, staring at the window. Neil takes another sip of coffee and the fog clears. Nathaniel has survived on fine details. Details that Neil stopped caring about when he put his guard down. 

But now he sees. Really _sees_. The little things he didn’t pay attention to start coming together. 

The mole behind Aaron’s ear. The circle-shaped cluster of freckles below his left eye. The specks of green dots dominating the golden ones in his hazel eyes. The crease his forehead forms when he looks too hard into something. The lack of faint cigarette smoke scent now. Neil is sure it was there last night. 

Stupid. So stupid. He didn’t even think of it last night. 

Neil arches an eyebrow. “You’re not taking up smoking or something, are you?”

Aaron looks taken aback. “Uhhh... No?” he says slowly. 

“Good. Smoking is a shit habit,” Allison chimes in. 

Neil almost burst a laugh. He. Is. So. Stupid. 

“I have to go,” Neil says and jumps up. 

“Okay, if you want to talk later—”

“Sure. I’ll text. Bye, Alli. Stay gorgeous.”

“Awww. This is why you’re my favorite, bro.”

Neil flashes a smile and leaves them behind. He walks aimlessly around the campus until he ends up in the bush garden behind the library. He’s alone here. 

Alright. Here are the facts. Neil isn’t losing his mind. Not at all. Not fucking at all. He’s lived too long observing people to lie to himself like that. He tries to put together the picture of the last few days, every time he’s seen Aaron. 

The stadium. The first time he felt like the ground was tilting under his feet. The soft fire in his stomach. 

The cafe the next morning. The cold absence of that warmth that flooded his system the night before. Aaron’s change of confidence. 

The park. That huge, solid _something_ that felt as steady as the ground under him. The fuzzy warmth bubbling under Neil’s skin. The disorienting second his mind registered that feeling as _want_ . To be closer, to touch and feel and have _more_. 

That kiss behind the dorms that felt like a blast of winter gust in his face. Like nothing at all. 

The second one in his room that set him on fire. 

It didn’t make sense because Neil wasn’t looking. It didn’t make sense because he was off guard and he didn’t expect it. 

But it does now. It’s not really that hard to piece the puzzle together. If he calls Aaron’s number now… who would he be calling? 

Neil laughed. God, he was so stupid. 

He texted Aaron’s number. 

_Hey, wanna talk? I’m in the park behind the library._

**Aaron [10:47]**

_Coming over_

He squints his eyes rethinking his next text. 

_I forgot to say thanks for coffee earlier._

**Aaron [10:50]**

_No problem._

God fucking damn it. Neil can’t stop laughing. It’s not funny, really. None of it is. Still, he holds his stomach and laughs like a maniac. The last time someone fooled him, he was fifteen and he got a knife in the back. 

He dials Stuart. 

“Hey Stuart, I need a favor.”

“Is it the kind of favor you need a burner phone for?”

Neil sighs. “God, no. No. I just need a check on someone. Like… now.”

“Oh, that. Sure, kid. Not a problem. What do you have?”

“Name. Aaron Michael Minyard. I’ll text you a picture.”

“What do you need on him?”

“Everything. Background, family stuff, siblings. Specifically the last one. Do your absolute worst.” 

“You mean best.”

Neil laughs. “Yes. Digging into people’s secrets is a super talent in your world.”

“It’s a super talent in any world, kiddo. I’ll text you the details.”

Neil sits on a bench and lets his head fall back. 

Stuart tried to make him see a therapist once. Actually, this went on for a couple of months until he finally got the hint. His uncle insisted Neil had unhealthy first responses to anything that happened to him. 

When Nathan almost chopped Neil to pieces, Stuart expected him to fall apart after. He watched Neil closely as if he was a puppy about to die overnight. What Stuart didn’t understand was that the falling apart bit looked different for different people. 

For Neil, it is the nightmares. It is the prickles that crawl on his skin when he remembers Lola’s face. The nausea choking him up when he thinks of blades pressing against his skin, and handcuffs keeping him in place, and the exact tone of Nathan’s whiskey-soaked drawl. 

Neil knows he should be angry. Whatever the fuck is happening, he should be angry. 

But Neil isn’t. He takes a breath and lets the feeling soak him. Solid, deep-seated mindfulness. That’s what he feels. Neil rarely feels like this, but Nathaniel used to. The distinct sense of Nathaniel Wesninski floods his body. Nathaniel before he drew a knife across the throat of a man holding a gun to his mother’s head. Nathaniel when he lied on border controls, and to police officers. Nathaniel when he transformed into something, _someone_ else. 

“Are you brooding again?” A voice snapped him out of his bubble. 

“Come on, that’s not my brooding face. Can’t you tell?”

Neil watches the blond as he walks over to the bench and sits down. His lips curl at the corner in a little smile that brings an almost invisible dimple. Almost. The constellation of freckles reaching his nose. The gold specks overshadowing any other color in his eyes. 

“You said you wanted to talk,” the blond says. 

Neil catches his chin and runs his thumb over his jawline. 

“You got something on your face,” Neil says, rubbing the non-existent something off, and turns his head slightly sideways, just enough to see the mole behind the blond’s ear. He doesn’t. 

Fake-Aaron smiles and pushes Neil’s hand softly away. Neil’s insides flood with heat at that simple touch and he wants to slap himself for it. 

“So what do you want to talk about.”

“Nothing,” Neil deliberately locks his hand into fake-Aaron’s, testing his own body’s reaction. He almost laughs. This is ridiculous. “I just wanted to see you is all.”

Fake-Aaron looks at him as if Neil has grown a third arm. 

Neil’s phone buzzes. He looks at the screen and sees a few attached files, and a message from Stuart.

**Uncle S [11:09]**

_I didn’t keep you out of the family business so you get in trouble with criminals._

Neil shifts a little away from fake-Aaron and clicks on the first file. The pictures hit him in the face. Aaron Michael Minyard. Andrew Joseph Minyard. Neil closes the file but not before he sees the words _juvie_ and _foster care_ and a list of a dozen names.

_Well. Nice to meet you, Andrew Minyard. You absolute fucking asshole._

Neil smiles and types a quick message to Stuart. 

_Call me_

“Is everything okay?” Andrew says. 

A light breeze moves the air and Neil can sense the almost-there cigarette scent. 

“Yeah. Absolutely. I just wanted to—”

Stuart’s call cuts him off. Just in time. Stuart is reliable like that. Neil looks at his phone and frowns. 

“Right. Sorry. My uncle. It’s important.” Neil answers the call. “Hi, Stuart, can you hold on for a second?”

Neil muffles Stuart’s response and turns to Andrew. “I do wanna talk. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

Neil smiles and starts rambling domestic nonsense with Stuart until Andrew walks away, then mumbles he’ll explain later and hangs up. 

He stays for a few minutes, an hour, two, he really doesn’t know. But finally, his head is clear. On the way back to his dorm he sends the files over to his email and turns his phone off. 

He’s annoyed at himself for not catching up sooner, but not as annoyed as he is with Aaron. What the fuck kind of game is he playing? Neil has enough friends on the Exy team and he knows the bastards bet on random things all the time. Is this a bet? 

It’s a pretty shitty one if it is. 

No. Kevin would never let Aaron do something like that to him. Or Matty. Or Allison. It can’t a bet. It’s Aaron playing a game with him. 

He almost bumps into Kevin as he runs back to the dorms from practice. 

“Sorry man,” Kevin mutters. 

“Save some for the actual season, Kev.”

“I run on suppressed anger, there’s enough for years.” Kevin laughs. 

He turns to go and Neil calls after him. “Hey, Kev. Tell Aaron to come by my place at 7.”

Kevin quirks an eyebrow. 

“My phone broke,” Neil explains. 

“Oh. Sure. Yeah. I’ll tell him.”

Aaron never mentioned anything about a brother. Or foster care. Neil can’t wait to dig into that file. 

Whatever game Aaron’s playing, it ends today. But that doesn’t mean Neil isn’t going to make the liars sweat. He’s not sure which one of the two he wants to punch more. Both deserve it. 

Well. They want to play a game? Neil’s in. He bets they didn’t think their lies would fall apart so fast, but it’s their fault, really. 

That’s the mistake most lousy liars make: they think they’re infallible.

But Neil’s raised to be a liar and he’s learned the three unbreakable rules of the lying game years ago: 

One. Keep your facts straight.

Two. Always let a little truth in every lie. 

Three. Never lie to a liar. 

Aaron and Andrew Minyard have certainly missed the memo on that last one. And Neil is dying to watch them both as they realize their idiotic game is over.


	4. Chapter 4

Neil sits on the windowsill and lets a cigarette burn. Then a second one. 

He’s gone through Stuart’s files and couldn’t wrap his head around what he’s seen in there. Aaron’s mentioned his mother died, but he’s never said a word about Andrew. It doesn’t make sense. Andrew was in the car with their mother and he almost died, too. Why did Andrew grow up in the foster system and Aaron didn’t? Why is Andrew here when Aaron has successfully pretended he didn’t have any siblings? 

Something is very very fucked up with those two. Neil knows there must be more to it than what’s in Stuart’s files. 

Time drags painfully slow. Neil lights up another cigarette and leans his head over his bent knee. He stares at the clock on the wall wishing it to move faster. 

Tick-tock. 

Neil has no idea what he’d say. Not that this is a problem; he thrives in improvisation anyway. 

_18:47_

Neil’s stomach is a tight ball of nerves. 

_18:52_

Neil lights another cigarette. He draws a deep breath and counts to ten in German. Then in French, and Spanish and Russian. He pulls a drag from the cigarette choking a little on the burning sensation in his throat. Yup. Still can't stand smoking. 

_18:57_

A knock on the door. Neil turns his phone on and jumps off the windowsill. 

He sends a quick text to Aaron’s (Andrew’s, evidently) number.

_Wanna come to my place? Matty’s out. We can talk._

The reply is instantaneous.

**Andrew [18:58]**

_Be right there._

Neil shoves the phone in his back pocket and opens the door. Aaron’s face looks even more nervous than it did this morning. His eyebrows are knitted together, the small crease on his forehead more prominent. He wears a light blue shirt, and Neil realizes he’s only seen Andrew in long-sleeve shirts. Another tell he missed, damn his stupidity. 

“Hey, Neil. Kevin texted me to come.”

Neil pulls the door open. 

“Yeah. Come in.”

Aaron moves cautiously as if he knows something is off. 

“Is umm… is everything okay?”

Neil gestures for him to sit on the couch. “Yeah. I would’ve texted you but my phone broke.”

“Oh. Okay. Kevin made it sound like something was wrong. You know he’s extra dramatic.” 

Neil laughs. Aaron’s not wrong. Kevin has always been as dramatic as a Greek play. Neil considers the knife tucked in his belt and the one laying on the kitchen counter just within his reach, and decides he’s not far off himself. 

He doesn’t really plan on using either of those but who knows where this might go. 

Stuart says one should always be prepared in war, love and interrogation. Tonight looks suspiciously like the latter. 

Aaron shifts in his spot on the couch following Neil as he paces around the living room. 

“Wanna sit? You look nervous. It’s just me, Neil. What’s going on?” Aaron has the audacity to say. 

“I’m getting there.”

Aaron huffs a laugh. “Okay. Please sit. You’re giving me a headache.” 

Neil leans over the back of the armchair and stares at Aaron. Judging by the flush creeping up Aaron’s face, Neil knows exactly what that stare looks like. It’s Nathaniel’s look that could reduce a person to ash. A practiced gaze that he’s perfected over the years and it worked every time. 

“What game are you playing, Aaron?”

Aaron’s eyes grow wider. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Playing dumb doesn't suit you.”

Aaron looks like he’s forgotten to breathe. He swallows. “Neil, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Did anything happen? What is this about?”

A knock on the door draws Neil’s eyes away from Aaron. 

“Yeah. What is this about really,” Neil mutters, walking backward to the door. 

There is a little sting in his chest. The tiniest spark that ignites in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Andrew on the other side of that door. Fuck this. He doesn’t even know who Andrew is, for God’s sake. 

_But you do. You fucking do_ , a tiny voice in his head chimes. 

All those files, Andrew’s whole life laid out in front of Neil. It feels like someone he’s known his entire life and it’s ridiculous. 

Neil opens the door. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says in a voice that could melt glaciers. If there is one good thing about Neil’s life on the run, it’s that he can switch into someone else in a matter of seconds. 

His words and the way he said them have an immediate effect on Andrew’s face. His eyes grow a little wider, a faint pink crawls up his ears. 

Neil hears Aaron’s mumbling a quiet “what the fuck” behind him. 

“Come in,” Neil says, throwing the door wide open. 

Andrew takes a step in and freezes in his spot. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” Aaron jumps off to his feet. 

Andrew snorts. 

Neil pushes Andrew forward and shuts the door behind him. 

~~~

Andrew did not see this coming. 

He should’ve known the second Neil opened the door with eyes like liquid steel and that look on his face… he should’ve known. 

Andrew stares at his twin, his messed-up, flushed, confused twin, and he feels like he’s slapped the bastard. It’s almost euphoric. 

“Wanna sit, _Andrew_?” Neil says, emphasizing his name. 

“You know each other?” Aaron says, his voice goes higher in pitch. One point for Andrew.

“Oh, come on, brother, you can drop the act now. He obviously knows.” Andrew is going to drag this shit to the end and bury them both if he has to. 

Aaron will get what he deserves. 

“ _What_? You fucking asshole! What the fuck have you—”

“Why don’t you both sit over there and we all have a little talk, hm?” Neil says. 

Aaron huffs a laugh. His face is wrecked. Good. Another point for Andrew. 

“I’m leaving,” Aaron bolts for the door, fuming. 

Then in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, a knife lodges into the door, a few inches from Aaron’s head and everything freezes. 

Andrew looks at Neil, and God… _God_ , if soft, flustered Neil melted his insides, this Neil in front of him left him dead in the water. His heart leaps to his throat. A thrill bubbles in his veins. 

“Sit. Down.” Neil’s voice cuts like a steel blade. 

Andrew sits on the couch, somewhere between giddy and a little intimidated, which happens… well, never. He watches Aaron go pale and walk slowly over to join him. 

Neil pulls a chair and sits across from them, arms folded at his chest, keeping nerve-wrackingly long eye contact with Andrew. 

Shit. Can Neil tell the difference now? When did he figure it out? Before he kissed Andrew? After? The nausea from this morning returns full force. 

“You know each other,” Aarons says dumbly. 

Andrew should put himself together and finish this before Aaron fucks up his plan. He’s too deep in to give up now and let Aaron win. He can do it. 

Except, Neil is looking at him like he’s trying to set him on fire. He probably could. 

“Now that we’re all one big happy family, I’m going to ask again. What game are you playing?” Neil shifts his gaze between Andrew and Aaron. 

“Maybe Aaron could explain better than I can,” Andrew says. 

“You fucking… Neil, listen to me. Whatever he said, he’s lying.”

Andrew huffs a laugh. _Do it, Andrew. Fucking say it._

“I’m lying?”

“What the fuck are you trying to pull off here, Andrew?” Aaron practically shouts. 

_Say it!_

“I’m doing what you asked me for, Aaron. Will you drop the act now?”

Aaron goes still and silent. Something dark flickers across Neil's face for a single second, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Andrew’s face. Great. A staring contest. 

Andrew digs his nails into his palm, holds Neil’s gaze and lies through his teeth, “You wanted me to trick the guy into liking you, that’s what I did.”

“What?” Aaron sounds like he’s choking on his own spit. “No. No. Neil—”

“Really? You’re being pathetic, Aaron,” Andrew finally looks at him. “You can’t throw me under the bus and come out clean. That’s not how the game works.”

Aaron has the brains not to punch Andrew. He knows Andrew’s armbands serve more than decorative purposes. 

“How was I supposed to know he’d figure it out? You said he wasn’t that smart,” Andrew continues. 

Fucking hell, this isn’t supposed to burn like this, and yet, every word tastes like poison in Andrew’s mouth. 

He doesn’t care. Ten fucking points for Andrew. Aaron can burn in hell. 

“Neil, he’s fucking lying!” Aaron’s on his feet again.

“Oh for God’s sake, drop it, Aaron.”

Neil stares at both of them, still and quiet. He sighs loudly and rises from his seat, too. 

“Get out,” he says, looking at Aaron. 

“Neil—”

“Get the fuck out, Aaron.”

“Neil, I swear—”

Neil pushes him toward the door. “Out. I’ll talk to you when I don’t want to punch your teeth inside your head.”

Then he pushes Aaron out and closes the door. 

The staring contest is back on and Andrew is losing. He can’t hold Neil’s icy blue gaze. His face is still water, unreadable and set in stone. 

Andrew pushes himself up and pulls closer to the door. He needs to get the hell out of here. But Neil leans against the door, blocking his escape, looking every bit like he’s about to murder Andrew. 

“You’re all kinds of fucked up, aren’t you?” Neil finally says. 

“That’s a matter of interpretation.” 

Neil’s lips curl at the corner ever so slightly. 

“So. You want to answer the question?”

“What question?”

“ _What game are you playing_?”

“I thought I did.”

Neil laughs this time but there’s no humor in it. There’s something else. Something dark and dangerous and Andrew can’t put his finger on it. 

“I know you’re lying.”

“You overestimate my brother’s decency, Neil.” 

“Or you underestimate my ability to see through your bullshit.” 

Andrew snorts. God, this guy is going to be the death of him. “Or that.”

“So, you _are_ lying.”

“I’m not.”

Andrew forces himself not to swallow the lump forming in his throat. 

Neil stares at him for another moment, and before Andrew opens his mouth to say something else, Neil lunges forward and lands a solid punch in Andrew’s jaw. 

Andrew loses his balance and trips, gripping Neil’s arm to break his fall. Neil pushes him down. 

“That’s for fucking with me,” Neil says leaning down. 

He offers Andrew a hand. 

What. The. Fuck. Andrew tastes blood. He wants to hit back but black, thick dread floods his stomach. He knows he deserves it. The self-destructive strain in him _wanted_ this to happen, wanted Andrew to get a punishment for what he’s done. Gregory will tear him a new if Andrew ever says that out loud. 

Andrew takes Neil’s hand and pulls himself up, only to find himself hauled up and the back of his head clocking against the door when Neil pushes him. 

Neil’s breath is hot in Andrew’s ear, brushing over his neck. Andrew's head fuzzes out at the sensation of Neil’s hand pressed at his shoulder, Neil’s breath sending electric sparks down his spine. 

“Now, you’re going to get the fuck out of here, and you will never talk to me again,” Neil says. 

Andrew swallows hard. 

“Say you understand.” Neil’s voice digs a hole in Andrew’s chest. 

“Okay.”

“ _Okay_?”

“I understand.”

Neil lets go of him all at once. 

“Good.”

He opens the door and practically shoves Andrew out, slamming it behind him. 

~~~

The thing about Andrew Minyard is that he isn’t evil. Neil has seen bad people, been hurt, tortured, hunted by them. He could recognize one with his eyes closed. And Andrew isn't one. 

Which is why he can’t understand why Andrew did that. He lied, Neil knows that. Andrew wanted to hurt Aaron and Neil has been just collateral damage. Aaron’s been Andrew’s true target. It was all over Andrew’s face when Aaron broke down. Sheer satisfaction at the damage he’s caused. 

It felt awfully close to revenge. 

What could Aaron have possibly done to bring this onto himself? 

What is he hiding? 

Neil decides in the end that he’d stay away from both Minyard brothers. It’s their own problem and their own shit to unpack. Neil isn’t anybody’s fucking psychiatrist. 

Avoiding Aaron isn’t that easy considering they run in the same circle of friends, but Aaron gets the hint and does his best to give Neil space. 

Andrew, on the other hand, isn’t close to any of them, and still… Still. 

_Monday_

Neil sees Andrew fidgeting with a pen, his nose buried in a notebook in the library. He stays at a distance—alright, fine, _hides_ at a distance—so he can watch Andrew a little longer. His focus-face isn’t anything like Aaron’s. He chews at his lower lip as he runs the pen over a line in the notebook and Neil has to look away. 

_Wednesday_

Andrew talks to Renee, the Foxes’ goalie, by the court. Neil is waiting for Kevin and Andrew sees him across the parking lot and looks away. 

_Friday_

Neil runs a twentieth lap on the track, desperately trying to bury his frustration in physical exhaustion. It doesn’t work. He can run half a day and still be perfectly fine. But he pushes again and again and again. He runs sprints, reveling in the burn in his muscles. It’s not supposed to be like this. Neil isn’t supposed to feel a goddamn thing now that he’s clear of Andrew and Aaron’s lies, but he does. He can’t stop thinking about Andrew’s stupid face and he hates himself. He stops in the middle of the track to finally catch his breath and looks up. Andrew sits on the top row of the audience benches, black armbands and a bored look on his face. When his eyes meet Neil’s, he gets up and leaves. 

_Saturday night_

Matt and Dan drag Neil to their regular Saturday night at Eden’s Twilight. Allison makes him wear a shirt that is way too fitted and jeans that “show off his gorgeous ass”, and Kevin fixes his hair with some gooey stuff that smells like coconut. 

The night goes on as usual: Neil draining sodas while his friends dance. It’s all perfectly fine, and then Neil sees him. Ripped jeans and an elbow-length-sleeved Henley shirt, combat boots and styled hair. Neil’s heart makes a small leap in his chest. Andrew locks eyes with Neil and it feels like an eternity. Then Andrew breaks contact, throws a shot back and leans over the bar to call for the bartender. 

Neil knows the bartender—Roland—a well-meaning guy, late twenties, a wicked sense of humor. But he didn’t know it would bug him when Andrew laughs at his jokes, that it would sting like this when he runs his fingers along Roland’s arm. He didn’t know it would rip his insides to shreds to watch them both disappear in the backroom of the club. 

Neil is not a drinker. He likes his head clear and his focus on point. It’s a habit he’s kept since his days on the run. But when he grabs a shot from the platter on the table and gulps it down, clarity is the least of his concerns. 

Kevin sits next to him after the third shot. 

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Yeah… I don’t believe you.” Kevin throws an arm around Neil’s shoulders. 

“I wanna go.”

“Okay. We’re going then. I’ll text Matt. Come on.”

On the way to PSU, Neil laughs in the car. God, he’s so stupid. He can’t place why this bothers him. It makes absolutely no fucking sense. 

_Sunday morning_

Kevin finds Neil in his favorite cafe. Renee and Andrew pass by just as Kevin sits down. Renee waves at Kevin. How the hell did Andrew become friends with Renee? Neil hasn’t spoken to her except for an occasional greeting when he was at the court. They aren’t friends, but he knows who she is. The rainbow-haired girl always scared the shit out of Neil for some reason. 

Kevin bumps Neil’s shoulder. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

Neil doesn’t. He’s told Kevin the whole story but it doesn’t mean he wants to lay his heart out for dissection. He feels… whatever he feels he’s going to smother it and move on. 

“I’m fine.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I’m always fine.”

Kevin laughs. “Okay. I was thinking… don’t get mad, I know we’ve talked about it and everything but I just don’t want you to miss your chance here, okay?”

Neil shifts in his seat. He knows where this is going. Kevin has been drilling about Exy ever since Neil came back into his life. After high school, Stuart had one rule only to let Neil go wherever he wanted and that was quitting Exy for good. He's never told Kevin that, and so Kevin kept pushing. Neil has always shut him down saying he doesn’t want to play ever again, but this is a lie. And Neil is so tired of lying to Kevin. 

“Exy try-outs again?”

“Yes.”

“Kev…” Neil runs a hand through his hair. “I want to, okay? I want to more than anything, I do. But I can’t.”

Kevin’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I… Stuart doesn’t want me to.”

“What?”

“Yeah… He made me promise I won’t ever play Exy again. He’s worried I might draw attention to myself. Riko’s or Tetsuji’s. He says it’s just a precaution but… He won’t let me play. I talked to him about it. He just won’t.”

Kevin sighs. “They don't own you, Neil. Just… Please come to the try-outs. That’s all I’m asking. Try. See where you stand. Get a taste of it. Then, if you want a spot on the team, you can work it out with Stuart. He didn’t care when you played in high school. Why is it a problem now?”

“Too much media exposure, he says.”

Kevin takes a sip from his coffee, fishing for his phone that won’t stop buzzing. “It’s your life, Neil. You decide what to do. I’m grateful to Stuart for everything he’s done for us but this isn’t his call.”

Kevin looks down at his screen. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Will you ever talk to Aaron about his mental brother’s bullshit?”

“Probably. I mean, I’ll probably talk to him but not about Andrew.”

“He’s driving me nuts.” Kevin types furiously and shoves his phone back in his pocket. 

“It's his thing, I guess.”

Kevin chuckles and Neil can’t help the smile creeping up his face. He’ll deal with Aaron eventually. He’s just not entirely sure he wants to dig the skeletons in the Minyard’s backyard. 

The cafe is comfortably quiet on Sundays. Kevin isn’t big on talking and that works perfectly for both of them. Their friendship has always been the quiet type.

Kevin never understood why Neil gave up Exy and declined his spot on the team, not that Neil blames him. He was pretty bitter about it for a while. But after everything that happened to him and Kevin, and Jean, Neil knows that their friendship is the kind that can’t be broken. Neil and Kevin are like brothers, and brothers are mean to each other sometimes, aren’t they? When Neil refused to join the Foxes, Kevin blocked Neil on social media for a month and Neil stole Kevin’s favorite coffee mug, then Kevin gave Neil’s phone number to random girls around campus and Neil put Jean as his emergency contact instead of Kevin. 

And so what of it? Kevin is still one of the two people on this miserable earth who cares about Neil unconditionally. Neil is still suspicious of Stuart but he’s close to making it in that little list, too. 

So, at the end of the day, Neil agrees to try for the team. 

Kevin will back him up, he knows that. Kevin will never let him face Stuart, or anyone in that matter, all by himself. 

_Monday_

Neil bounces on his heels as he stands by the door on the court. Kevin beams. Matt has a smile brighter than the sun. Allison and Dan clap when they see Neil. Alright, then, so he has a little cheerleader squad now. 

“So, Josten,” Coach Wymack says behind Neil. “I have to ask. Why did you turn down our offer last year? Full scholarship. Not something to refuse as easily as you did.”

Neil turns around to look at him. “I had… reasons.”

“Right.” Wymack frowns. 

He knows most of what happened to Kevin, he knows Stuart took him out of the Nest but he doesn’t know the details. When Kevin reached out to Wymach during his senior year in high school, the man didn’t even hesitate to let Kevin in his life. Completely. Open-heartedly. But even so, Kevin kept the ugly details from him. 

“I’m here now,” Neil says. 

“You are. If you still play like I know you do, this,” Wymack gestures at the court, “is just a formality.”

Neil nods and looks back at the court. Voices carry from the locker room. A total of six people show up for the try-outs. A thrill rushes through Neil’s veins, one that he hasn’t felt since high school. 

Somewhere behind him he hears a familiar voice and forces himself, with every fiber of his body, not to turn around. 

“Sorry coach, I know I said I needed more time for the ankle injury but I’m ready. I can make it today. I know the official try-out is today. If you let me play, I’d love to try.”

_Shit._

“You sure, kid? I don’t want you to push yourself too hard if you’re injured, I said I can wait, I’ll keep to it.”

“No, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Okay. You’re in.”

_Oh shit. Fucking hell._

Neil meets Kevin’s gaze across the court. He turns around and his breath nearly catches as he meets Andrew Minyard’s hazel stare. 

Andrew’s indifferent mask falters for a split second and then his face stills into its usual bored expression. Neil swallows. He can do this. Fuck Andrew Minyard. Aaron’s shit at Exy; Neil doubts Andrew is any better. 

So what if he tries? That doesn’t mean he’ll get on the team. 

Neil looks away and steps on the court forcing Andrew out of his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if _Neil_ offered Andrew a deal, and not the other way around?  
> Well. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Trigger warnings***  
> References of past abuse  
> Drake. Is. In. A. Scene!  
> All canon-typical triggers apply
> 
> AU NOTES:  
> In this AU, Aaron and Nicky are not on the team (we have Derek and Ava replacing them - also yay for more women in Exy). Seth is alive. Riko didn't get to break Kevin's hand.  
> So for clarity, current 10 Foxes: Neil, Kevin, Seth, Dan, Allison, Matt, Ava, Derek, Andrew, Renee.

Neil does end up on the team. 

So does Andrew Minyard. 

It wouldn’t be such a big deal if Neil only sees Andrew on the court. But a week after Neil joined the Foxes, Wymack walks into the locker room with a wicked grin and tells them that they can finally return to the Fox Tower. The Tower was set on fire last year and been under construction since then. The investigation found nothing but Neil knows Riko Moriyama has something to do with it.

Neil lived in the Fox tower the first year in PSU, which was against the rules—only people on the sports teams lived in the tower—but who cared about rules when Kevin Day was involved?

Not that Neil doesn't like the dorms in the Fox Tower, he does. Who would say no to extra space? The Tower dorms only have two bedrooms each and a large living space. Not to mention a killer view. But Andrew... Fucking Andrew is two doors down the corridor, and Neil _hates_ it. 

It’s been two months. 

Two months, Neil has to look at Andrew’s face on and off the court. And boy, the bastard is _everywhere_. In Neil’s favorite cafe, in the Fox Tower gym, in the basement study rooms, in the library—Neil’s third favorite hiding spot, and most recently, he’s claimed the rooftop, Neil’s _favorite_ hiding spot. Which leaves him with only the lilies pond in the park. 

The worst thing is, Andrew lives with Kevin now, making Kevin’s room a no-go territory. Great. 

Neil stares at a spot on the wall in the lounge room in the Fox Tower, barely listening to what Wymack is saying. Kevin fidgets with his keyring. Two weeks from now, Kevin will face Riko Moriyama on the court for the first time since he left Castle Evermore. Neil could see his friend falling apart, and nothing he does helps Kevin. 

It isn’t news that the Ravens switched districts but Kevin kept his composure so far. Neil suspects Riko Moriyama did this so he can taunt Kevin after the NCAA advisors started comparing Riko and Kevin. They said Kevin was better since he left Evermore, that he was probably holding back the whole time back then so as not to outshine Riko, the King of Exy.

Wymack paces the room. 

“At the game with the Ravens, Kevin and Neil stay off press duty. Dan’s our best option. Maybe Renee.”

“Why do we have to walk on eggshells around the Ravens?” Derek says with a snort. 

Neil shoots him a deadly stare. The asshole’s been on Kevin’s case since day one. They both joined the Foxes the same year, and Neil has heard all about Derek Folkes and his blasted mouth. Honestly, he isn’t worth the trouble; he’s a mediocre backliner at best. Compared to Ava and Matt, he’s like a puppy running aimlessly on the court. 

“We’re not walking on eggshells. You don’t know what Riko is capable of when he feels threatened,” Kevin says. 

“So what, you suggest we lose so we don't piss him off, then?” Seth says. 

Kevin laughs. It’s a bitter, terrible sound and it makes Neil’s heart clench. 

“Delusions aren’t healthy, Seth. We _are_ going to lose. Let’s not push Riko to take more than just a win on the court, how’s that?”

But Kevin’s wrong. Last week, the Foxes beat the Bearcats 14:5. The first half of the game was a disaster. It ended 5:2, Bearcats’ favor. Kevin was fuming in the locker room and Andrew leaned against the lockers, arms crossed in front of his chest, and said, “I’ll make you a deal, Day. I’ll lock the goal down if you score in the first five minutes. And maybe a bottle of scotch.”

Kevin laughed. But it wasn’t a joke, it turned out. Kevin scored in the third minute and Andrew Fucking Minyard shut down the goal, not letting a single shot pass until the end of the game. He was panting when the buzzer went off, red face and trembling hands, but it was worth it. Neil didn’t know anyone could play like that. 

If Andrew can do that again, if he can do it every time, they can win. They can beat the Ravens, get to the finals and win the goddamn Championship.

Andrew is watching Kevin from his seat on the corner, his eyes studying his face as if he’s trying to read Kevin’s secrets there. 

He waits until the chatter dissolves, looks between Kevin and Neil and licks his lips. Neil swallows down a lump forming in his throat. 

“Kevin, you know most Raven’s drill, yes?” Andrew says. 

“Umm, yeah. Not anything since I left but I’ve watched their games.”

“Show me.”

“The… Raven drills?”

“Show me how they play offense.”

Kevin snorts. “What are you playing at? We can’t win this game. We’re at the bottom of the division. What you did against the Bearcats was... impressive, alright. But it's the fucking Ravens we're talking about. They won the Championship in their district last year. And the year before, and the year before, and the year—”

“Yeah, yeah, we got it, you get a boner when you talk about them. Will you show me or not?”

Kevin sighs. “Okay. Say when and we’re on it.”

There is something in Andrew’s expression that sends a little thrill down Neil’s back. Andrew doesn't ask questions if he doesn't have something in mind. Two months playing with him have taught Neil that much. 

A knock on the door drags Neil’s attention away from Andrew’s face. A middle-aged man walks in without waiting for a response. He’s fairly unimpressive—jeans and a button-up shirt—but he has that cop’s swagger Neil has seen many times before. 

“Who are you?” Wymack says. 

Andrew shifts in his seats. “Pig Higgins. It’s a long way from Oakland for a casual visit.”

“It isn’t a casual visit,” the man says. 

“I already told you last year, I’m not helping you in your witch hunt.”

“Andrew, is there a problem?” Wymack intrudes. 

“No. Not a problem at all. Pig Higgins was just leaving. Right?”

“Give me five minutes, Andrew, that’s all I ask for.”

Andrew pushes himself up from his chair and backs against the wall, knee folded up. “You have no idea how little I care about what you want.”

Higgins shakes his head. “I was wrong. I know that. We were looking at the wrong person, weren’t we? I think I’ve got it right this time but I can’t do anything without a complaining witness. The other kids won’t speak up. They don’t trust me that much. You’re all I’ve got.”

What the hell is going on? Neil doesn’t take his eyes off Andrew’s face. The twitch in his expression is like a crack in a concrete wall. 

“Kids? Kids, plural? You only mentioned one last time, Pig. How many are you talking about? How many has she had.”

“You wouldn’t care about the number unless there really was something there for me to find. Just yes or no, Andrew. That’s all I want. That’s all I need right now. I’ll give you a name, you’ll give me an answer, and I promise I’ll go away.”

“You promise.” Andrew’s face cracks in an amused expression. “You’ll break that promise inside a week, Pig. Don’t pretend otherwise. Do I have to walk you out to make sure you leave or will you—”

“Drake.”

Andrew’s face pales. Neil remembers the name. Drake Spear, Cass and Richard Spear’s son, Andrew’s foster brother. 

“How many kids, Pig?” Andrew finally says. 

“Six, since you.”

Andrew pushes himself off the wall, stomps past Higgins, and slams the door behind him, leaving the Foxes with baffled faces and questions heavy in the air. They seem lost, but Neil isn’t an idiot. He’s seen Andrew’s file. He’s seen the list of foster families, the even longer list of psychiatrists. Neil puts the pieces of the conversation between Andrew and the cop, combines them with Andrew’s file and it all makes sense. 

It isn’t the first time Neil sees what the aftermath of abuse looks like. He’s seen Kevin break down at the mention of Riko’s name, Jean fall to pieces when someone mentioned his scars. He’s seen the winces, the instinct to push away, and draw back from a simple touch, he remembers screams in the middle of a nightmare, Jean’s and Kevin’s, and sometimes his own. 

The meeting is over soon after. 

Neil reminds himself a dozen times that this isn’t any of his business. 

He does it for a week. 

He does it until he stops seeing that broken version of Andrew that the blond let show for just a split second when he heard Drake’s name. 

~~~

Andrew doesn’t care. He doesn’t. _He fucking doesn’t!_

And yet, he called Higgings after the man showed up in PSU. He said yes. He agreed to do whatever the cops wanted him to, subject himself to the shitshow that a court case against Drake Spear certainly would be. 

Six kids. That’s all he could think about. 

Andrew isn’t necessarily the sympathetic type, but he isn’t a monster. Regardless of what the Foxes call him. Aaron, the utter idiot, spreads enough rumors about him to back the nickname well enough. 

Saturday night.

Dan's convinced the team to make a night at Eden’s their team bonding exercise. Which mostly means she's found an excuse to dirty-dance with Matt in front of her teammates all night. 

Andrew ditches them more often than not. Aaron apparently made friends with fucking _everybody_. He’s here tonight, too, caught in his idiotic good-boy act. He’s sitting on Neil’s side, Kevin on the other, and both of them are talking animatedly to Neil. None of this matters when Neil ignores them and pins Andrew with one of those stares that make him weak in the knees. 

Andrew spends most Saturday nights, avoiding Aaron and his teammates, drinking on the bar letting Roland talk him to death, occasionally dragging him in the backroom for something a bit more fun than talking, or dancing with Renee. 

He isn’t opposed to dancing but he’s not the hands-in-the-air type of guy. He mostly lets Renee lean on him or sways to the music while she’s around him, using him as a shield for unwanted intruders. The Foxes already have a bet for both of them and the pot is growing larger after every Saturday night. 

Today, Andrew lays his hand on her shoulder and smiles one of those smiles that get him his way, knowing the others are watching.

“You’re a menace, Minyard, did you know that?” Renee says. 

“Oh, come on, don’t you want to win that pot? What is it now? Four, five hundred?”

“We’re not allowed to bet on ourselves.”

“Whatever. Make Reynolds bet and share the spoils.”

Renee throws her head back and laughs as if Andrew’s said the funniest joke in the world.

“Well played,” he mumbles. 

He’s told Renee the first week after he heard about the bet that nothing could ever happen between them. Not that Renee was interested. She’s far more interested in a certain tall blonde with a sarcastic mouth and bitchy attitude. 

Unfortunately, said blonde is fucking Seth Gordon, which, in Andrew’s book, is a sign of a very bad taste in men. Boring. Dull. Utterly unoriginal. 

On the Foxes’ table, Neil nurses a third soda stealing an occasional look at Andrew. 

The thing is, Neil said Andrew can’t talk to him. Ever. So he doesn’t. On the court, they don’t have to talk, really. Everything can be solved with a gesture, or a look, or Andrew just talks to Kevin hoping Neil will get the gist. 

But it’s torture. It’s never happened and it’s driving him completely crazy. Andrew never keeps his attention on someone longer than a month, and even when he does, it’s for casual hook-ups. Roland’s different. He’s convenient, and they have a deal. They can hook up every now and then, when Andrew says so, and Roland is perfectly fine with it. 

But Neil… Neil’s fucking with Andrew’s head just by existing in the same space. 

When he meets Neil’s crystal blue eyes for the twentieth time this night, he lets the feeling consume him. He doesn’t fight it, just lets the warm shiver travel up his spine and nest in his head and blur his thoughts into a mess. 

That’s all he’s ever going to get from Neil, anyway. Andrew doesn’t deserve more than this. Bee says he’s being too harsh on himself but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know exactly what Andrew did with that kiss. 

He became just like... _them_. 

He doesn’t deserve to have this. And so he does the only thing he’s allowed to; he watches over Renee’s shoulder until Neil breaks eye contact and looks down to his soda can. 

~~~

Neil can’t help drifting his gaze toward Andrew every few minutes, and he honestly wants to slap himself. Kevin has left him with Aaron and Ava on the table. He’s dancing with a girl Neil doesn’t know. 

Aaron doesn’t say much but at least they talk now. Neil’s made a deal with him: no talking about his brother. It seems to work, even though Aaron occasionally dives in the Andrew-is-a-dick talk. Neil ignores it. 

Aaron gave him a heartfelt speech about their friendship, and Neil didn’t see a lie in any of those words. He wasn’t lying to Neil. So what the fuck happened with his brother then?

Neil still doesn’t have an answer and it’s eating him alive. But he told Andrew not to talk to him ever again. He can’t exactly go up there and ask him now. 

Aaron mostly sticks to safe topics, so careful not to step on a land mine. He really tries. Neil should give him that. Aaron is trying hard to fix their friendship, and this isn’t something Neil will brush off just like that. 

But he knows Aaron isn’t telling him the truth about _Andrew_. 

Andrew who’s avoiding his brother like the plague. 

Andrew who’s grown up away from Aaron. 

Andrew… who’s looking at Neil right now, filling his head with fog. 

“Are you listening?” Aaron’s voice breaks the spell. 

“Yeah, I heard you, Bewilderbeast is the best kind of dragon.”

What the fuck is Bewilderbeast?

Aaron sighs deeply. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, do you want to talk about Andrew?”

Neil snorts. “With you? Fuck no.”

“Neil…” Aaron takes a long pause. “We’re friends. Fuck everything else. We’re friends. I just want you to… I know I said I won’t talk about him, but Andrew’s dangerous. He’s manipulative. He’ll mess with your head and I just don’t want this to happen to you.”

Dangerous. As if Neil didn’t throw a fucking knife at Aaron that night. 

“You’re right. You said you won’t talk about him, and I don’t know what’s up with you two but I don’t wanna hear this.”

Neil pushes himself up and sneaks out of the booth. He heads to the bar, the hubbub around him muffling the sound of his name as Aaron calls after him. 

Neil gets another soda, leans back against the bar and watches the people on the dancefloor. 

Objectively, he knows he’s staring at Andrew too much. He can’t help it. But what catches his attention is a tall, bulky guy, all muscle and tattoos, lurking in a corner. He takes slow sips from his drink, swiftly changing positions and every time Neil looks up to Andrew, the man is somewhere behind him. Staring at Andrew. He’s staring now, too, leaning against a wall in the dark corner of the club. 

It feels off. 

Andrew meets Neil’s eyes again. Fucking hell. Saturday night is successfully turning into make-Neil-sweat night. He hates it. 

Andrew lifts his glass ever so slightly, turns on his heel and heads to the back door. Probably for a cigarette. Neil fights the urge to follow him. 

He turns his gaze to his soda, then back up again and Andrew’s gone. 

Something dark and bitter is eating at Neil. He knows the feeling of impending trouble. But he’s not in danger. Not anymore. Nathan is dead. Lola is dead. All of Nathan’s loyal people are in jail. 

Neil is _safe_. 

He scans around the club, searching for something wrong, and then it finally clicks. 

The tattooed man is gone, too. 

~~~

Andrew pulls a long drag from his cigarette, forcing the vision of Neil’s gorgeous blue eyes out of his head. Not so easy for someone who remembers just about everything. 

He leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes as the smoke fill his lungs again. He lets it out in a slow stream. 

The smallest shift in the air is all the warning he gets before a hand cuts off his air supply. Fingers wrap around his neck, a heavy palm grabs his shoulder, turns him around and slams his body into the wall. His cheek scrapes against the bricks. The air trapped in his lungs set his insides on fire. 

Andrew reaches for his knives but finds his arm twisted painfully behind his back, a body pressed into him, covering every inch of his back. 

A whiskey-soaked breath brushes behind Andrew’s ear and he wants to scream. He thrashes beneath the weight, but the man is big, too damn big. 

“Hey, little brother.” The voice freezes Andrew’s blood. “Long time no see.”

He can’t breathe. He can’t think. Every fiber of his body is begging him to run. 

Andrew yanks himself out of Drake Spear’s hands, but the bastard is strong. Always has been. He catches both of Andrew’s arms behind his back and slams him hard into the wall. Andrew’s cheek burns as it meets the bricks. 

“Still a feisty little thing, are you? Always loved that about you.”

“Fuck you.” Andrew manages whole two words. 

“No time for that. Listen to me, Andy.” Drake slams him against the wall again. “Drop that whole testimony crap, or I’ll make sure next time we meet is a lot more memorable than this.”

Drake grabs Andrew’s neck, pushing his head until his cheek grates into the wall. Pain flares across Andrew’s skin. 

“Am I clear enough?”

“No,” Andrew hisses through clenched teeth.

“Ah, that’s a wrong answer, Andy.” 

Drake’s nails dig into Andrew’s neck. 

For a second, Andrew is back in the Spear house, and he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore. 

~~~

Neil makes it to the back door in a flash. He doesn’t care what he said to Andrew. Fuck all of it. He doesn’t care about anything, he just wants to find him and make sure he's safe. 

He sees the tattooed man pressing Andrew into a wall. He shoves Neil Josten somewhere deep down, and lets Nathaniel Wesninski surface and take over. 

Andrew’s shaking. 

“Walk away from the case, Andy,” is all Neil hears before he sees red. Case? Oh, wait. Higgins. The cryptic conversation. The investigation. Andrew’s face when he heard that name. Drake Spear. Andrew’s foster brother. The man slams Andrew into the wall just as Neil reaches him. Neil presses a knife on the side of his stomach. It takes everything in him not to jab the knife in his throat. 

“I suggest you take your hands off him, turn around and fuck off before I change my mind about killing you,” Neil says. 

He slides the knife up, leaving a shallow cut up to his ribs. The man shoves Andrew away and turns around. At the sight of Neil, he laughs. 

Neil gets it: the man has a foot and at least a hundred pounds on him. Of course, he would laugh. Why wouldn’t he?

Neil doesn’t let him act further than a laugh. He plants a kick in his groin, slams him back to the wall and presses the knife between his ribs, an inch of it already digging into his skin. 

The man hisses. It sounds suspiciously like a whimper and Neil loves the sound. He wants to dig the blade deeper. 

“Come close to him again and see how it goes.”

Neil sets one foot on the ground between the man’s legs and trips him over, pushing him down. 

For good measure, he calls for the club security to deal with the asshole. Andrew sits on the ground, back pressed against the wall, watching Neil as if he’s never seen him before. 

“I can drive you,” Neil finally says. He keeps his distance for Andrew's sake.

Andrew nods. Still not a word, then. God, the asshole is going to drive this no talking thing to the end. 

“Come on.” Neil offers him a hand and Andrew stares at it for a long moment before taking it. 

Andrew barely makes it to Kevin’s car before his knees give out and he slumps down to the seat. He pushes the door wide open with trembling hands and pukes on the ground, barely outside of Kevin’s car. Oh, well, Kevin’s meltdown about puke in his car: successfully avoided. Neil doesn’t know how to do this. He’s been with Jean and Kevin through a panic attack, but this is different. This is Andrew, who Neil has no idea how to drag out of one. Andrew who hates being touched. 

Andrew leans forward, pressing his forehead in the dashboard on the passenger side. His breaths are quick and shallow.

Neil leans closer laying his hand on the console between them.

If this was Kevin, he’d keep his head against his own shoulder and let him listen to Neil’s breaths until Kevin breathed again. 

If this was Jean, he’d wrap an arm around his shoulders, and recite that bit from the Little Prince in French, the one with the rose garden. 

With Andrew, he has no idea what to do. 

So he keeps his hand between them, and says so soft it startles him, “Hold my hand if you want to.”

Andrew doesn’t move.

“Andrew.” 

The blond shifts ever so slightly, readjusting his arm. “Talk. Just talk.”

“Okay. But you’re not gonna like it. It’s about Exy. Brace yourself.”

Neil talks about Kevin’s new drills, about the game against the Ravens, about the chances the Foxes have, statistically, to win the Championship. 

When Andrew sits back and wraps his arms around himself, Neil sends a text to Kevin to get back with Matt and drives to PSU. 

He walks Andrew to his room and waits for him to open the door and get inside. Andrew stops, turns around and leans against the door frame. His eyes wander around Neil’s face as if he’s looking for answers. To what questions, Neil has no idea. 

“I’d appreciate it if you… keep your mouth shut about this,” Andrew finally says. 

What the fuck? Does he seriously think Neil would just go around campus spilling Andrew’s problems? Idiot. 

Neil simply nods. “You should take care of that.” He gestures at Andrew’s face. “Looks pretty rough.”

“Mhm.”

And for a second everything turns blurry and surreal and Neil’s blasted mouth spits the words before he could think them through. “I can… I can do it. If you let me… I mean, if you want to.”

Holy shit, did he just invite himself to Andrew’s dorm? 

Andrew stares at him, eyes burning into Neil’s. It’s nerve-wracking trying to hold that goddamn hazel gaze. The blond pulls the door open and nods. "If you don't touch me."

"I won't," Neil says and slips into Kevin's room.

Neil digs Kevin’s first aid kit from his desk drawer. Kevin’s always so methodical in the way he keeps his belongings, it borders a mania. 

He returns to the living room and finds Andrew sipping a glass of water on the couch. Neil sits next to him, leaving at least a foot between them and places the medical bag in the empty space. Andrew’s cheek really does look bad, but Neil’s seen a lot worse. 

He daps a cotton pad in antiseptic, holds it with a pair of pincers and softly rubs the blood off Andrew’s cheek. Andrew keeps his eyes on his face, and God, it feels… Tingles crawl across Neil’s skin, his head’s light and dizzy, flutters burst to life in his chest. He’s too close. 

Neil swallows hard and covers it with a small cough. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Neil says. Not that he expects Andrew Glower Face Minyard to talk about feelings but it’s worth the shot. 

“Do I look like I wanna talk about it?”

“Nope,” Neil says, the “p” coming out with a pop. 

“What are you going to do with this, Neil?” Andrew pins a finger on Neil’s wrist and pushes it away. 

“With what?”

“All you saw.”

“You think I’m going to use it against you? Is that it?” Neil huffs a small laugh. 

“Aren’t you?”

Neil considers the dark shadows in Andrew’s expression for a long moment and when the words come to him, he lets them out without thinking. 

“When I was fifteen, I’d been running from my father for five years. He finally caught up with me in Seattle, locked me in a basement and tried to cut me to pieces. I got this then.” Neil gestures at the scar on his face. “Among many others. He planned to cut my legs off, you know. Make me pay for running away. It was by some cosmic luck that he couldn’t go through with it. Only Kevin, my friend Jean, and my uncle know that.”

Andrew’s face doesn’t even flinch. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought I’d balance the secret exchange scales.” Neil digs an antibiotic cream out of the bag and hands it over to Andrew. “Was that your foster brother?”

Andrew snorts. “Didn’t you _just_ balance the scales?”

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll find out. It’s just faster if you tell me.”

Andrew looks like he’s about to punch him. “Yes.”

“I heard him mention a case. Assume you’re helping that cop then? So he’s what, threatening you to stop?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Neil.”

“You have trust issues,” Neil says. Like he’s one to—

“Like you’re one to talk.”

_Fuck._

The thing is, Neil isn’t sure that Drake won’t attack Andrew again. In fact, there’s a solid chance he will. Not that he doubts Andrew is perfectly capable of defending himself but tonight, Drake caught him off guard. Neil knows intimately what being caught off guard can do to a man. This is how you get killed. 

And so, he ignores every reason that he shouldn’t do this, and instead focuses on the one why he should: Andrew will be safe. Neil might be a selfish asshole most of the time but he can’t bring himself to be one with Andrew. He refuses to dissect the reasons why. Not yet. 

“Here’s the thing, Andrew. I think that cop was onto something. I think whatever he knows you’ll say in court will land this asshole in jail. And I think Drake Spear looks just like the type to do anything to avoid jail. Do you see where I’m going with this?” 

Andrew’s face stretches into an amused expression. “Yes. Six feet underground.” 

“I ran away from the mafia, you’re really not scaring me.”

Andrew’s eyebrows shoot up. Oh, right, Neil didn’t mention the fact that his father worked for the mafia. Whatever. Andrew can figure it out on his own time. 

“What I’m saying is, I can protect you.”

Andrew snorts a laugh. “You. _You_ can protect me? Are you serious?” 

Neil shrugs. “My uncle loves doing favors for me. He’s very good at making problems disappear.”

Andrew catches on Neil’s thought in a heartbeat. “I don’t want him dead. Death is easy.”

Neil smiles. “Okay. Here’s my deal then. I can protect you. You do what you need to do, and I will protect you from him.”

“And in return?”

“Play like you did against the Bearcats. I want to win the Championship and put the Ravens down.”

Andrew huffs. It almost sounds like a laugh, only soaked in derision. “You’re just like Kevin.”

“Worse.” Neil smiles. 

“Fine. I’ll do it. But you don’t get to ask me anything about Drake.”

“Wouldn’t even think about it. I won’t ask, I won’t dig. Unless you want me to know anything, I’ll keep my nose out of it.” 

“Deal.”

“Deal. We’re gonna kick the Ravens’ asses so bad.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Fucking junkie.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riko is a bitch. That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> *Mentions of past abuse*

Aaron catches Neil on his way out of the Fox Tower on the night before the Ravens game. He’s probably had a study thing with the biochem bunch in Katelyn’s dorm, but right now he’s glued on Neil’s heel. 

Currently, Neil is considering throwing him out a window. 

“Come on, Neil. I know you’re hanging out with Andrew, you don’t have to lie about it.”

“I’m not. We’re playing on the same team, remember? Kinda unavoidable to see your brother.”

“This isn’t what I’m talking about! Katelyn said she saw you two on the running track the other day.” 

Neil kept walking, waving a hand in the air. 

“Are you done?”

“No! Fuck no, I’m not done.” Aaron grips Neil’s shoulder and drags him to a stop. 

Neil snaps around so fast Aaron drops his arm immediately. “What do you want, Aaron?”

“He’s going to… Neil. He’s going to do something to you. He’s going to hurt you. I know what he does. He’ll manipulate you and he’s good at it, he’s really good, and I just… Don’t want that for you.”

Neil wants to laugh. Barely stops the sound from rising to his throat. “This isn’t about me. That whole pretending shit was not about _me_. But you already know that. So, tell me. What did you do to him to make him hate you so much?”

Aaron takes a step back and this is the first time Neil sees it. He sees the crack in Aaron’s perfect nice-guy demeanor. Something dark flashes behind his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything.” It comes out as a whisper. 

“I don’t believe you. It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me. I’m not going to dig into your and Andrew’s problems. That’s none of my business. Solve this shit on your own. But don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I can make my own decisions. Don’t drag me into your feud with your brother.”

Aaron sighs. “Fine. I’m sorry.” He turns on his heels and leaves Neil alone in the corridor. 

Neil makes it to the lounge room late.

The game against the Ravens tomorrow is on the Foxhole Court. It’s well past midnight and the Foxes are gathered in the lounge room. Wymack claims it’s for last instructions, Dan claims it’s to drink away their future loss. 

Neil likes Wymack’s version more. 

Andrew looks bored which is nothing new. Since the incident with Drake, they’ve been talking again, but Andrew is jumpy. More so than usual. Every time someone approaches him he has that look on his face as if he’s ready to draw a knife and gut them. That’s probably true. 

Andrew is keeping his part of the deal. Last week, they won their game, and Andrew was incredible. Neil’s side of the deal requires a little bit more third party involvement. Stuart is still pissed as hell for the little Exy stunt Neil pulled on him but he didn’t deny him anything. Neil has people keeping track of Drake Spear’s every move. If he ever comes close to PSU again, Neil will be the first one to know. 

No one had officially pressed charges against Drake yet, so he’s a free man. But Neil knows it will happen and soon, and then all hell will break loose on Andrew. It’s fine. Neil’s an expert in dealing with hellish stuff. 

That dangerous, manipulative thing that Aaron mentions about his brother… Neil doesn’t see it. He hasn’t asked Andrew anything about his twin, doesn’t even know if he will, but it’s bothering him. More so than he wants to admit. 

The Foxes look tense tonight, and Kevin has a lot to do with it. He has been a nervous wreck for the last couple of weeks and takes his anxiety out on them. On the court, of course. 

Currently, the striker is sitting on the couch, his phone on the cushion next to him vibrating continuously. The display is facing down and Kevin is clearly pulling superhuman willpower not to touch it. 

It doesn’t stop buzzing. 

Neil wants to keep his mouth shut, he does, but he can’t keep watching Kevin shaking like he’s about to dissolve into himself and disappear. 

“Pick up the phone, Kev,” Neil finally says. 

Kevin shakes his head. 

“What is it, Day, an angry girlfriend?” Derek snorts. 

Kevin shoots him an icy stare. 

“Pick up,” Neil repeats. 

“I can’t talk to him,” Kevin says, his voice cracking at the end. 

“Wait, who’s calling you? What’s going on?” Dan shifts in her seat where Matt is wrapped around her like one of those koala bears on a tree. 

Kevin puts his face in his hands and stills in his seat.

“It’s Riko,” Neil says when it’s clear Kevin won’t talk. 

Neil watches the stern line in Wymack’s forehead grow deeper. He moves from his spot and leans over the couch, gripping Kevin’s shoulder. 

“There’s nothing he can do, Kevin. You’re all safe here,” Wymack says. 

He’s wrong but Neil has got to give him credit for the effort. 

“Seriously, that’s a bit of an overreaction. Are we supposed to act like we’re scared of Riko now? It’s just a game!” That is Seth. 

Damn, Neil hates that guy. 

Kevin’s head snaps up. “Is it not _just a game_ , Seth! You remember when the Foxtower burned down, yes? You know what happened right before it did? Riko offered me to transfer to Edgar Allan.”

“ _What_?” Wymack’s face looks horrified. Well, alright, then. Kevin obviously keeps many secrets from his father. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to… I don’t know. I refused. Then the Tower burned down. You can say it’s a coincidence, that the investigation showed nothing, whatever. I know he did it.”

Dan disentangles herself from Matt’s arms and sits on the table in front of Kevin. “Kevin, I think this obsession with Riko—”

“Dan.” Neil all but growls. 

Dan clears her throat. “You’re turning him into a monster in your head and I’m pretty sure you’re projecting a lot more power onto him than he actually has. He’s just a college kid with a bad attitude.”

At that, Kevin laughs. He runs a hand over his face and looks at her dead in the eyes. 

“Have you met Jean Moreau?” 

Dan nods. Oh, shit, Neil knows where this is going. 

“Kev, maybe… don’t go there?” Neil says. Andrew’s eyebrow shoots up where he's sitting across the room. 

But Kevin isn’t listening to Neil. He’s staring at Dan with that stubborn determination of his that used to drive Neil nuts in high school. 

“Jean has this scar below his collar bone. It’s a slur word, carved with a paring knife,” Kevin swallows. Neil knows which scar he’s talking about. He’s seen it many times. It’s the f-word, and no, not _that_ f-word. The really bad one.

“Kevin,” Neil says and he hates how his voice turns into a warning. 

“Want to take a guess who did that? Ask me.” Kevin doesn’t take his eyes off Dan.

“Kevin.”

Dan shakes her head. “I’m gonna go with Riko.”

“Kevin, shut up.” Neil grips the arms of his char for dear life. That is too much. They don’t need to know this. They shouldn’t. 

The corner of Kevin’s mouth curves ever so slightly in a terrible smile that looks more like a snarl. 

“No. I did it.”

Fucking idiot. Neil knows most of what happened in the Nest to both of them. They are close enough and Jean has no secrets from Neil but the Foxes… The Foxes still and all Neil can hear in the room are heartbeats and small, muffled gasps. 

Wymack looks like he’s incapable of speech. 

Dan swallows. “You…”

“Riko shoved a gun at his stomach and made me choose. Either I do that, or he shoots Jean in the guts and leaves him for the night to see if he makes it until morning, and maybe, _maybe_ , then he’d call for a doctor.”

“Kevin that’s—”

“You know, it wasn’t even a punishment for Jean. He’d break a finger or leave another scar on his stomach if that was the case. It was a punishment for _me_. This is who Riko Moriyama is. So don’t tell me I’m projecting anything onto him. I’m not overreacting. I just know him. You don’t.”

Dan holds his hand. Neil can’t see her face but anyone who knows Dan even for a day could say she’s full of understanding most people lack. “It’s not your fault,” she says. 

Kevin huffs a weak laugh. “I know that, thank you. I’ve had enough therapy by this point to unpack… all of that. I’m just saying you underestimate him. He set the Tower on fire just because I refused to play on his team. People could’ve died, Dan. He doesn’t care. They’re just collateral damage to him. He switched districts because of that, because of _me_. He’ll run through anyone and anything to get what he wants.”

“Alright. Then we go out there and play and fuck Riko Moriyama. We’ll be extra careful outside of the court while they’re here. We’ll manage.”

Wymack finally finds his voice. “Yes. I’ll call for extra security until they leave. Do not leave the Tower. Kevin,” he clasps his shoulder and leans over him, “don’t talk to him.”

“I won’t.”

“Yeah? Give me your phone.”

Kevin sighs. “I’m not a child, thank you very much.”

“Good for you. Phone.”

Kevin hands his phone over to Wymack. The coach ruffles his hair, mumbles something under his breath that sounds like “some sleep” and “little shits”, and leaves the room. 

Neil sleeps on the couch in Kevin and Andrew’s dorm that night. 

~~~

There’s a game to win and all Andrew can think about is the sight of Neil sleeping on the couch this morning. The sun fell on the redhead’s face, making every line softer. His hair was a soft fire of messy curls falling in his eyes. Andrew stayed for as long as he could get away with, just watching that face, serene and beautiful and untouchable. 

It was nothing like the one Neil wears in the locker room right now. It’s dangerous, carved out of stone, determined to run himself into the ground before he let the Ravens win. 

Kevin was right. Riko Moriyama is a complete fucking asshole. Twenty minutes in, he throws Ava into the wall and she has to switch for Derek. Andrew watches her limping to the locker room. Fairplay means nothing to the Ravens, apparently. 

As if it isn’t bad enough that Derek has to play until the end of the game, and honestly the asshole sucks, but Neil decides to pull off a series of insane stunts, ending up in the locker room with a bag of ice on his ankle. 

By half-time, the score is 5:6, Ravens’ favor. The thing is, Andrew can’t pull off a whole game just yet, so Renee played twenty minutes at the end of the first half. Andrew let only one of those six goals pass. 

In the locker room, he pats her shoulder. He means it as a praise—she did great, really—but she gives him a weak, defeated smile anyway. Renee is a good goalkeeper, but the Ravens are fucking manic. Andrew knows he’s better, he’s not going to pretend otherwise, and Renee and he respect each other too much to muffle the truth for the sake of each other’s pride. 

Andrew knows what it costs his body to shut the goal down. Every muscle will burn tomorrow. It will be worth it. The Raven assholes deserve to get their egos bruised a little. Okay, maybe more than a little. 

Kevin is shaking in the locker room, looking just about to shed out of his own skin. Neil kneels in front of him on the bench and holds his hand, mumbling words in soft, quick French. Andrew doesn’t speak French, and still, he’d probably kill a man to have Neil whisper it in his ear any day. 

Kevin nods every now and then. But he’s lost. His eyes dart around the room, unfocused. Neil digs his phone out of his bag and sits next to Kevin, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

“Aww, that’s endearing,” Derek says from across the room. “How long have you two been fucking?”

“What?” Seth spits water. “Don’t tell me you two are f—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll punch your nose inside your skull.” Neil is on his feet in a split second. 

Seth snorts. 

“Shut up, Seth,” Allison shoots. 

Matt looks at him as if he’s trying to blow his head off with a stare. “What is it, you two haven’t seen friendship that doesn’t involve a daily dick-measuring contest?” 

“Oh, come on, you have to admit this is weird,” Derek snorts. 

“You’re a complete moron,” Dan says. 

Neil ignores them and dials someone. He sits back down, one hand clutching Kevin’s wrist. 

“Hey," Neil says to the person on the line. A pause. “Yeah, yeah I know. I am. Talk to him.” Then Neil switches back to French for another couple of sentences and hands the phone over to Kevin. 

Whatever the person on the line says, Kevin eats up every word. His eyes clear, his breathing balances out. He has that look on his face, the one he wears every time he’s so lost in practice he forgets everyone else. Andrew has seen it many times, and even though he pretends Kevin is a pest, this is the one thing he admires about him most. 

Kevin hangs up and returns the phone to Neil. 

He stands up, wipes his face in a towel and waits until the break is over, staring outside from the door. 

“I’m going in,” Neil says, sparing a glance at Wymack. 

“No, you’re not. Not with that ankle.”

“Kevin needs me on the court for this one.” 

Wymack stares at him with his face unmoving. “You sure you can play?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Wymack nods. 

Before they get back out, Neil leans closer to Andrew.

“Give them hell,” he says. 

Andrew smiles involuntarily. 

The second half is a complete shitshow. Neil manages a whole twenty minutes before one of the Ravens’ backliners slams him on the ground, twisting his leg in a weird angle. Seth takes his place, which doesn’t help the situation at all. 

Kevin is losing ground with Neil off the court. 

Andrew doesn’t let a single goal in. Watching the King of Exy break down into a furious mess for not being able to get a goal in is Andrew’s highlight of the month. 

Even with Kevin unfocused, they are going to win. 

Andrew blocks another shot from Riko, and then before he registers what Riko intends, he’s slammed into the wall, the air knocked out of his lungs. His head hits the wall hard. Silver stars flare in his vision. Riko shoves his racquet at Andrew’s ribs, and walks away. 

Andrew slums to the ground. He focuses on getting his lungs to work again, forces a breath in with all he has and lies down. Everything is hazy, the voices blur together in a muffled background sound. 

Then Neil kneels beside him and takes his helmet off, and tells him not to move, and Andrew hangs on that voice like a lifeline. 

~~~

Neil paces in the waiting room in the hospital. 

Wymack is talking to a doctor in Andrew’s room and Neil is losing the last of his patience. He just wants to know Andrew is okay. Is that really so fucking hard to say?

Andrew has listed Wymack as his emergency contact. That raises too many questions Neil doesn’t want to think about just now. 

Wymack finally appears. 

“So, he’s fine. Concussion and bruised ribs. But they want to keep him in the hospital until tomorrow. He’s not cooperating very well. Hospital issues. He threatened to leave. Won’t stay alone in that room so I’m going to stay. You’re going to get a taxi back to the dorms, get straight in and call me. Find Kevin. I don’t think he’s doing very well right now.”

Well, of course, he isn't. They lost. _He_ lost. To Riko fucking Moriyama. 

For all Neil knows, Kevin is nursing a bottle of vodka on his bedroom floor. There isn’t anything he can do when Kevin is like that, except wait out the storm and then fix the wreckage. 

So instead, “I can stay.”

“You wanna stay in the hospital?” Wymack raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“I didn’t realize you were… close.”

Neil feels heat claim his cheeks. 

“Nevermind. I do too many things for you little shits that are above my paygrade. Stay. I’ll go back, see Kevin, and make sure those assholes get penalties for that shit they pulled off.”

Neil nods. Wymack leaves to talk to the doctor again and Neil takes his phone out. He considers for a long moment and shoots a text to Aaron. 

  
  


**To: Aaron [22:14]**

_Andrew got hurt in the game. I’m with him in the hospital. Here’s the address: link_

**Aaron [22:16]**

_Is he ok_

**To: Aaron [22:17]**

_Yeah. Concussion and bruised ribs but he’ll be fine._

**Aaron [22:18]**

_Ok_

**To: Aaron [22:19]**

_That’s it?_

**Aaron [22:20]**

_What do you want me to say? He’s fine._

**To: Aaron [22:21]**

_Are you fucking kidding, Aaron? What is wrong with you! He’s your brother._

Neil dials Aaron, furious. No. That’s all wrong. On so many levels wrong. What the fuck?

He nearly shouts the second the call connects. 

“Are you serious right now? What the fuck, Aaron? You can’t let go of your idiotic feud for like a day? It could’ve been a lot worse than that. He got lucky. How can you not care?”

Aaron snorts. “Why should I care?”

“He’s your brother!”

“That’s funny. You know, you were supposed to be my friend. Now you’re defending him, when all he did was fuck with your head. Did you forget that? Did you forget what he did? Or is he already fucking you stupid and knocked your brains out on the headboard?”

Neil freezes. Composes himself in less than a heartbeat and grits out, “Fuck you, Aaron.” 

He hangs up. 

Aaron follows up with a message. 

**Aaron [22:26]**

I’m sorry I said that. 

Neil doesn’t reply. Wymack waves to Neil to come closer. The doctor lets him in the room and leaves with Wymack. 

Andrew starts protesting when the nurse nears the door but he sees Neil’s face and stills. 

“Call me if there’s any problem. He’s on pain medication that will make him dizzy. He might feel sick, so if anything unusual happens, let me know.”

Then she’s gone. 

Neil sits on a chair close to Andrew’s bed. 

“W-where’s Wy. Wymack,” Andrew slurs. 

“He’s going to the Tower.”

“Why r'you here?”

Neil smiles. “I volunteered.”

Andrew nuzzles his head into the pillow. “You’re d'worst.”

“Debatable.” Neil’s smile widens. 

Andrew turns his head to look at him. “I hate you.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“You’re pretty.”

Neil tries, and fails, not to react to that. His cheeks burn and his breath catches in his throat. He covers it with a small cough. 

“T-talk to me,” Andrew says after a long moment of silence. 

“About?”

“'nything. Say mm...s'mthing in French.”

“Do you speak French?”

“No.”

Neil laughs. “You’re ridiculous. Fine. I’ll tell you that bit of the Little Prince I tell my friend Jean when he’s not feeling fine.”

Andrew nods, and Neil recites that part of the book, watching Andrew’s face grow soft and sleepy, completely blissed out by the end of the story. 

Andrew would probably punch him in the face for this, but Neil has to know. He thinks of Aaron and his cold reaction and he doesn’t understand. What could possibly break them like that?

“Hey, Drew,” Neil says. 

Andrew hums in response. 

“Why do you hate Aaron so much?”

Andrew presses his face into the pillow. The words come out slurred and barely audible. 

“He m-made Alex leave, 'n Nicky hate me and shut me out. He was s'pposed to love me. S'pposed to be family. And he... h-he took everything.”

Neil’s about to say something when Andrew muffles something incoherent in German (oh, well, that’s new) and adds, “Sh'used to beat the shit outta 'im. I stopped her. 'N he thinks it’s my fault. But it’s hers. I told 'er what... what would happen if she didn’t stop. She had no right to look so surprised.”

Neil freezes. Did he just say… There's only one person Andrew could be referring to. And he just said... Was that a confession? Jesus. Alright, the Minyard bag of problems just turned into a fucking truckload. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff and tension and rooftop talks  
> Neil ends up with a plan.

Andrew wakes up with the disorienting feeling of the surroundings spinning. He blinks through the haze a few times and remembers everything. Riko’s racquet in his ribs, Andrew’s head slamming against the plexiglass wall. Neil. 

He looks to his side and finds the redhead curled up in a chair, sleeping. His palm is pressed against his cheek and his features look so soft in the morning light, Andrew wants to touch him. 

As if Neil feels his gaze on him, he shifts in his chair, slowly opening his crystal blue eyes. He rubs his face and focuses on Andrew. 

“What are you doing here?” Andrew says. 

“Umm… I told you, Wymack had to go and I volunteered to stay.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Neil snorted. “You threatened the doctors you’d leave. Didn’t want to be alone in a hospital room.”

“Oh.” Andrew doesn’t remember that part. 

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. I'll be better when I leave."

A nurse opens the door and the conversation dies as she checks on Andrew. Neil paces the room and as soon as the nurse is out he sits back down. Andrew successfully ignores him for a few minutes working on a pudding cup. 

Neil leans forward, elbows pinned to his thighs and chin pressed against his fists. His gaze is heavy on Andrew. 

“So um... who’s Alex?” Neil says. 

“How’d you…” Andrew swallows. Oh, God, he said something last night, didn’t he?

“You were high on painkillers.” It’s all Neil gives as an explanation. 

Andrew stares at his pudding cup. “He was my best friend in high school.”

“And what does that have to do with Aaron?”

Andrew feels his stomach clench. “What did I say last night?”

“A few things.”

Andrew turns to look at him. “Neil.”

Neil leans back and runs a hand through his hair. “You mentioned Alex, and Nicky and Aaron driving them away. And um…”

Neil’s face is set in stone, but a faint blush crawls up his ears and it gives him away. Andrew said more, something he shouldn’t have. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“And what?”

“It’s not really important right now.”

“Neil.”

Neil exhales a long breath. “You mentioned your mother. That you... You know.”

Andrew feels all the blood from his face drain. “I—”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

Andrew pushes himself up. He doesn’t need to ask Neil how much he revealed last night. It’s all over the redhead’s face. But the peculiar part is that he doesn’t look scared, he doesn’t look at Andrew like he’s an unstable monster. Neil makes no sense. Everything about him is a puzzle and Andrew wants to put every last piece of it in the whole picture. He wants to figure out Neil and be the one who knows all the bits of that gorgeous mess that makes him. 

“Why doesn’t that bother you?” Andrew fixes him with a stern gaze. 

“Well, you insinuated it, never actually said it straight—”

“I did it. Why doesn’t it bother you?”

“I know what it’s like to… do that to protect someone you care about.”

Andrew stares at him. He understands perfectly well what Neil is saying and still… It’s another piece of the puzzle that doesn’t make sense. 

Ice and fire. 

Soft and ruthless. 

Careless and razor-sharp focused. 

Cynical and too-trusting. 

Aloof and passionate. 

Fearless audacity and a blushing, flustered mess. 

Neil makes no sense. He’s too much of everything and yet, Andrew can’t get enough of him. 

They stare at each other for a long quiet moment and then the nurse opens the door and breaks the tensed silence. 

Two hours later, Neil is walking Andrew to his dorm. Andrew is fine, really. Apart from the headache and the bruises on his ribs, he’s fine. He has a bag of painkillers and anti-inflammatory meds and the doctor advised a week off the court. 

Andrew opens the door and Neil waits, looking at him as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. 

“What is it?”

“Can I come in?”

It’s a bad idea. Horrible idea. Stupid, stupid, fucking idea. “Yes,” Andrew says. 

They’re inside and Neil is too close to Andrew. “You can…” Andrew swallows. “Say what you wanted to say. I should probably get some more sleep.”

He hopes Neil hears the “say what you need to and get out” sentiment in his words. 

Neil watches Andrew where he’s pressed his back against the wall. His face is set in that neutral expression of his, the one he uses when he talks about Exy strategy. Andrew almost laughs. 

“Do you need anything? Tea or coffee or something? I can make you one.”

Andrew snorts. “I told you, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not here to babysit you.”

“Then why are you here?”

Neils steps closer, pressing one hand on the wall by Andrew’s head. “You just scared me. That’s all. I thought he was going to…” Neil swallows and his face turns so gentle it stirs Andrew’s insides. 

“I’m okay. Just a few bruises.”

“Yeah. Just that.”

Panic rises in Andrew’s chest like a cold wave. Neil lifts his hand and hovers over Andrew’s cheek, not touching him but close enough to send shivers down his spine. 

“Can I?”

Andrew nods and the panic rises higher. He wants to, so fucking much, he wants to pull Neil closer, but he can’t. He shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve this. 

Neil’s fingertips brush down his cheekbone, softer than feathers. Andrew watches Neil’s chest move, his breaths come out faster and shallow, brushing against his mouth. 

“I want to kiss you,” Neil whispers. His fingers catch the underside of Andrew’s jaw. “Can I?”

The words cause a riot in Andrew’s head. His conversation with Gregory plays out again and again and again. 

_“He asked me to kiss him.”_

_“Oh, for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t even know your fucking name, Andrew. Are you really that blinded by your hatred for Aaron that you’re willing to cross such lines?_

He knows what’s going on even before his lungs stop working. Panic claims his insides, wrapping around his lungs like barbed wire. 

“I can’t,” Andrew barely breathes out. 

Neil pulls back. Hurt runs across his face. Andrew doesn’t have time to probe into that. A full-blown panic attack freezes his sense. All he can register is the lack of air and the burn in his lungs. 

“Drew?” Neil’s voice sounds as if it comes from underground. “Andrew, look at me.”

Andrew does. He stares at that gorgeous blue and he can’t look away. 

“Can I touch you? Just your shoulder.”

Andrew means to nod. He hopes he does. Then Neil’s hand is pressing against his shoulder, pinning him against the wall. He catches Andrew’s hand and presses his palm against his chest. 

“Breathe. Just breathe. Follow how I do it and breathe with me.”

Andrew struggles to force the air in his lungs until he doesn’t. One breath, then a second. He presses his forehead onto Neil’s shoulder, listening to the words Neil recites in his ear in French. He doesn’t understand a single one, and yet it makes the storm subside. 

Andrew’s pathetic. So fucking pathetic. He did this to himself and there’s no running away from it. It’s all his fault, this much he can admit to himself. 

When he finally looks up, Neil’s face is shadowed with concern. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil says. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“Don’t apologize.” Andrew’s voice sounds raspy. 

“I didn’t realize—”

Andrew can’t hear another fucking apology from him. Not when it’s all Andrew’s fault. “How can you want that? How can you… Are you this fucking stupid? Or is your memory failing you?” Andrew taps his fingers onto Neil’s forehead, pushing him slightly backward. “I should’ve never kissed you.”

The hurt is back on Neil’s face. Fuck.

“I should’ve… You thought I was… You…” He can’t put the right words in a coherent sentence. Because there are no right words. There’s nothing he can say to make this right. 

Neil mouths a silent “Oh” and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

“That’s what this is about,” Neil says barely audible. 

He swallows and runs a hand through his hair. God, Andrew hates when he does that. It turns his insides into a molten mess every time. 

“Yeah, well," Andrew mutters under his breath.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve kissed a lot of people, and half of them didn’t even remember your name.”

Andrew’s eyebrows quirk up. A flush claims Neil’s face at the sight of his expression. “No. Not like… Fuck. I meant because they were drunk or something. You know, clubs and all? Not because you’re… forgettable.”

“It’s not… the same.” Andrew stares at Neil as he grows more nervous, shifting from foot to foot. 

Neil puts his face in his palms and mutters something incoherent. 

“Ok, I’ll try again. I wanted you to kiss me.”

“Neil.”

“I _wanted_ you to kiss me. This is why I asked you to. Twice. If I recall correctly.”

“You didn’t know—”

“Oh for God’s sake, shut up. I knew something was off then because it didn’t make sense. And that kiss was...“ Neil swallows again, the flush a deeper shade on his face. “I’ve never felt like that. It was always you, okay, it was never your br—”

Andrew presses his fingers against Neil’s lips to stop him from finishing his sentence. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want him and Aaron in the same sentence. Ever. Not when it comes to Neil. 

“When did you figure it out?”

“What the fuck difference does it make?”

Andrew glares at him. 

Neil sighs. “After you kissed me. I knew for sure when I asked you to see me in the library garden.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Neil huffs a laugh. “What, and deprive myself of the pure pleasure of your baffled faces when I put you both in the same room together? Never.”

Andrew lets the corner of his lips curl up. “You’re the worst.”

“Again. Debatable.”

Neil heads to the door and stops with his hand on the doorknob. He turns to look at Andrew, and Andrew can’t deal with the softness on his face. 

“I meant what I said. I won’t bring it up again. I don’t want you to feel like that because of me. But…” Neil wets his lips, hesitating. “If you… if you change your mind, I’m… not going anywhere.”

Andrew can’t say a word. He watches Neil walk out and his head is positively fuzzy, and he can’t stop playing Neil’s words in a never-ending loop. 

_I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere._

**~~~**

Saturday night at Eden’s is more fun than usual. Maybe it’s Andrew’s presence on Neil’s table. Maybe it’s Kevin finally coming out of his tragic little storm after the Ravens game. Or maybe it’s Jean Moreau visiting PSU. Neil doesn’t care. 

He’s on a happy bubbly cloud and he doesn’t care what got him there as long as it lasts. It won’t last, of course, it never does. But it doesn’t mean Neil can’t enjoy it now. 

Aaron is staring at Neil from across the table where he’s pressed his shoulder against Katelyn’s. No, not staring. _Glaring_. He rolls his eyes. 

Well, at least, he’s over his little crush, as Kevin called it. Neil can't see why Aaron liked him in the first place. Katelyn is perfect for Aaron. She grounds him in a way that no one else could, everyone could see this. Everyone could see he's better with her around.

But now, Aaron takes one look at Andrew who’s draining a glass of whiskey next to Neil, and he’s all hatred and disgust and Neil doesn’t know how to fix that. He doesn’t want Aaron to be mad at him because of Andrew. They’ve been friends for a year, and it’s a shame to let that go down the drain. But he’s not going to give up on Andrew just to please Aaron, either. It’s a stalemate, and from Neil’s experience, those never end well. 

Neil leans back and sips his soda, pretending he doesn’t notice Aaron’s death glares. 

Seth makes a choked sound and Neil turns to see Allison pat his back. Seth is staring at the dancefloor with wide eyes and shock on his face, and when Neil follows his gaze he sees the reason that got the striker so worked up. 

Kevin and Jean dance together, bodies pressed tightly, Kevin’s hand woven in Jean’s hair. Jean leans in and kisses Kevin, deep and hot and Neil laughs. 

“Well, that’s… interesting. Also, thanks for the money, bitches!” Allison laughs with him. 

“You and your bets, Alli. Is there a bet you can't win?” Neil grins. 

“Nope. I never lose a bet. But you could’ve told me, you little shit! I’m sure you knew about that.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “I don’t rat my friends out.”

Allison balls a napkin and throws it at Neil. 

Neil did know, of course. In fact, he can’t quite understand how his best friends in the world could be such oblivious idiots. This isn’t something new, it’s been going on for years. In high school, Kevin and Jean hooked up, then spent a couple of months trying to convince themselves (and Neil) that it was just what horny best friends did sometimes. It wasn’t. Even Neil knew that it wasn’t, and he was usually the oblivious one. 

Then, Jean moved to California, and Kevin visited him a few times during his first year. One of those times he came back, a total mess, distracted and wrecked, unfocused for days. Neil managed to keep his mouth shut for a week before he brought a bottle of vodka at Kevin’s and let him drink and spill it all out. He’d had sex with Jean when he visited, ‘ _not like what we usually do, all the way, Neil_ ,’ Kevin said. 

It’s been on and off since then. 

Neil knows they’re both lying to themselves, pretending this is just a crush, an attraction that needs to be burned out. It really isn’t. Neil might have never been in love but he knows what it looks like. Also, Jean already confessed once that he’s gone for Kevin. Like, completely _gone_. 

Kevin cups Jean’s head and speaks words against his lips, and his face is flushed and soft, and… oh, God, his friends are the most oblivious idiots. If he hears one more time that this is nothing more than a crush, he’ll lock them both in a room until they stop being stupid. 

“Hope you have noise-canceling headphones,” Neil says, bumping his shoulder into Andrew’s. 

Allison squeals. Seth makes a gesture like he’s about to throw up, and Neil ignores his existence altogether. 

Two hours later, everyone is delightfully drunk. Neil watches Andrew dance with Renee, or rather, Renee dance close to Andrew and Andrew swaying in rhythm with the music glued to one spot. 

Jean has an arm around Neil’s shoulders, Kevin’s head buried in the crook of Jean’s neck. 

“I get it now,” Jean says. 

“What?” Neil takes a sip from his soda. 

“Andrew.”

Neil laughs. 

“Don’t bother,” Kevin says against Jean’s skin. “He’s pretending he’s not in love with him or whatever.”

Neil snorts. “You’re one to talk about pretending.”

“‘m not. ‘m not pretending.”

Kevin’s voice is warm and raw, and he’s so, so drunk. 

“Sure,” Neil retorts. 

“‘m not. I totally love him.” Kevin hides his head against Jean’s neck. 

Jean visibly tenses. 

“It was about time,” Neil mumbles. 

Kevin pulls himself away to shoots a mean look at Neil. “Shut up.” Then he puts a hand on the back of Jean’s neck and draws him in for a kiss. 

Neil looks back at Andrew and meets his hazel stare. It erases all thoughts from Neil’s head except one, and he doesn’t register making the decision but he’s already walking toward the dancefloor. Renee smiles and walks away the second she sees Neil. 

Neil hovers a hand over Andrew’s shoulder and as soon as Andrew nods, he presses it down, his fingers raking over the fabric of his shirt. 

“What are you doing?” Andrew says. 

“Dancing. Problem?” 

Andrew visibly swallows. Neil knows how to dance. Jean’s a good teacher and, well, he’s French. He’s a walking, breathing embodiment of seduction when he dances. Neil knows how people look at him. 

He's nowhere near that skill level but who the hell cares if he can dance this close to Andrew and have his hands on him for just a little while?

As if on cue, the music shifts to something sultry and slow. Neil leans closer and whispers, “Put your hands anywhere you want.” 

Andrew’s bored expression breaks into something that looks close to longing. The idea of Andrew wanting him sends his pulse in the sky. 

Neil twirls around. Andrew’s hand is on his hip, moving him along as he sways softly, his chest pressed against Neil’s back, his breath brushing Neil’s neck. They move like that for long, blissed-out minutes which Neil decides not to count. Andrew’s breath against his skin set him on fire. 

There’s nothing more he wants than to kiss Andrew again. But he promised. He promised he won’t bring it up again, and he won’t. Except, God, he might lose his mind like that. He leans his head back and it falls on Andrew’s shoulder, and when Andrew whispers his name, his voice is wrecked. 

Neil turns around. Andrew holds his hips with both hands, pulling him closer. The Foxes sure as hell watch them. Neil knows that. The bastards probably have a bunch of bets since Neil and Andrew joined them, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the people in the club around them, or the Foxes, or the pointed looks they get from Aaron and hell knows who else. It’s just the both of them, impossibly close together and Neil’s body is a melted mess in Andrew’s arms. 

*

Sunday night, Neil finds Andrew on the roof. 

“Did you know this was my hiding spot before you stole it, you absolute bastard?”

Andrew blows out a slow cloud of smoke. “I didn’t see a ‘Property of Neil Josten’ sign.”

“Like it would’ve stopped you.”

Andrew sits on the edge, throwing a quick look back and Neil takes it as an invitation. Neil doesn’t think twice before taking it. 

“You can’t do that,” Andrew finally says. 

“Do what?” Neil furrows his eyebrows.

“You can’t… dance with me… like that.”

Neil bites down the confusion. “You… I thought you liked it.”

“That’s not the point.”

Neil runs a hand over his face. God, there’s no winning with this guy. “What _is_ the point?”

Andrew glares at him. 

Neil can’t take that look. Not now, not after… He releases a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll leave you to yourself.”

Before he could stand up, Andrew catches his wrist. “Don’t go.”

Andrew slips his fingers along Neil’s wrist and laces them together with his. The press of warm skin is all it takes to send Neil’s heart into a stutter. 

“Talk to me, Drew.” Andrew’s breath hitches at the nickname. “Something obviously bothers you and I don’t read minds.”

“Not so sure about that.”

Neil snorts. 

“Okay. I’ll trade you truth for truth.”

“What, like a game?”

“Think of it as you like. You ask me anything and I tell you the truth and vice versa.”

Well, that should be fun. “Alright. You ask first.”

Andrew throws the cigarette off the roof and takes another from the packet. Neil watches him take a slow drag, and rethinks his entire position on smoking and attractiveness.

“Tell me about your father.”

Neil sighs. “Right for the neck, huh? Fine. His name was Nathan Wesninski, but he was known as the bu—”

“The butcher of Baltimore.” Andrew lowers the cigarette. His face pales but his expression remains unchanged. This is the closest to shock Neil has seen him. “You’re Nathaniel Wesninski.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Andrew nods. “Go on.”

Neil rubs his eyebrows. “I told you I was on the run from him and he caught up with me and tried to kill me.”

Andrew knits his eyebrows together. “The articles about him said you were dead.”

“You’ve read them?”

Andrew hums in response. 

“Well… I’m not. Not for the lack of him trying. Anyway, if you’ve read the articles then you know he was involved with the mafia. My uncle saved me from him. He’s the one who killed him, too. Heads up, you can’t ask me about my uncle. That’s not in anyone’s interest.” 

Andrew huffs. “I gathered that. Let me guess, he’s not involved in exactly lawful stuff?”

“You could say that. My turn. What happened with your brother?”

Andrew looks at Neil as if he wants to push him off the edge. “You’re predictable.”

“You’re the one who offered the game. What does that say about you?”

“Shut up.” Andrew butts the cigarette down in the concrete and throws it off the edge. He clenches his fist at his side before he speaks. “Aaron’s mother put us both in the foster system. Except, then she had a pathetic guilt trip and took one of us back. Guess who drew the short straw. I found out about him when I was thirteen. Met him at fifteen. Two years after that Tilda—that’s Aaron’s mother—took me in to live with them. She used to beat the living shit out of him. I had to do something about it. You already know that part.”

“And he hated you for it,” Neil says. Finally, it makes sense.

“Yes. It all went downhill from there. He had a substance addiction. I got him off it and it only made things worse. Then he drove Alex away. I don’t know what he said or did but he never spoke to me again. I threatened his girlfriend I’d stab her so she’d break up with him. He made my cousin Nicky give up on me. Haven’t spoken to him since I was eighteen. Then I was about to move to PSU. I had a scholarship and a place on the team. And Aaron enrolled here, to spite me. I moved to Washington instead. We hadn’t spoken for years until I came here.”

“How’d you even know he had a crush or whatever that was on me if you didn’t even speak to each other?”

“That’s a second question.”

Neil sighs. “Fine. Ask.”

Andrew shifts in his spot. “I saw him watch you. It’s not so hard to read Aaron. Can we stop talking about him now?”

Neil laughs. “Yes. Yes, let’s do that.” He moves closer to Andrew and reaches for his hand again. It’s becoming a thing for him; Andrew’s hand in his own and the feeling he can’t stop from flooding his chest when their fingers touch. 

“Why did you offer to help me? About… Drake.” Andrew swallows visibly. 

“I don’t want him to hurt you again.”

“What do you care?”

Neil’s eyebrows quirk up. “I thought I made myself pretty clear about that part.”

Andrew remains silent for a long moment. His eyes wander around Neil’s face. 

“Andrew.”

“It’s your turn.”

Neil bites his lips. He said he won’t bring it up again, but technically, he isn’t asking for permission for the act. He isn’t asking Andrew to do it. He just wants to know what he feels about it. Here goes nothing. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Neil.”

“I just want to know. I’m not expecting anything else.”

Andrew's hand trembles caught up in Neil's and Neil squeezes it tighter. Andrew released a shaky breath. 

“Yes,” he says. 

Sweat beads in the back of Neil's neck. “It’s… it’s your turn.”

Andrew’s eyes flick down to Neil’s lips. The little space between them grows charged and hot with tension, and all Neil wants is to melt those inches. He shifts closer, their knees touching. 

“Drew.” He sounds desperate and he hates it. 

Andrew catches the back of his neck and leans in. 

“Neil,” he whispers against his lips, a hair from brushing them with his own. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, yes, Drew, yes.” 

And Andrew is finally kissing him again. The tension releases from his body, evaporates into thin air with Andrew’s slow drag of lips. He slips his tongue in Neil’s mouth, and Neil forgets to think altogether when it brushes his own. Andrew tastes like cigarette smoke and something distinctly _Andrew_ underneath that. Neil’s hands travel to the blond’s hair by instinct, bury between the locks and Neil gets lost in the sensation. 

Andrew breaks the kiss first. He leans his head against Neil’s shoulder and whispers into his shirt, “Shit. You’ll be the death of me.”

Neil laughs softly. “You’d be surprised how many times I’ve heard that.”

Andrew growls. 

“Never in that context, though.”

Andrew looks up and cups his face. “You never shut up, do you?”

“Haven’t heard you complaining before.”

“I’m not.” Andrew’s thumb rubs over Neil’s cheekbones. 

“I want to do that again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me already, Josten.”

Neil does. Kissing Andrew turns the last three months of torturous longing into smoke. It’s everything he wants and if it’s on him to decide, he’ll never stop. 

*

Later that night, Neil lays in his bed rethinking everything Andrew said on that rooftop. He dials Stuart. His uncle is on a business trip in London and Neil doesn’t ask when the world ‘business’ is involved. 

Stuart picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey, kid. Burned anything down yet?” His voice is sleepy and raw. 

“It’s 6 P.M. in London. Don’t tell me you’re sleeping.”

“Jetlag. Get to the point, kiddo.”

A ruffling of fabric and a wet sound like lips pressing against skin, followed by a low hum come from the speaker. Then a muffled voice says, _“Is there a problem, darling?”_ Neil immediately recognizes Ichirou Moriyama’s voice and soft accent. His mind freezes. 

_“Everything’s fine. It’s Neil.”_

_“Oh. Shit.”_ Ichirou’s voice drops even lower. “ _Call me when you’re done.”_

Neil clears his throat. “Umm… have something to tell me?”

“None of your business, kid.”

Stuart can’t be serious. No. That can’t be… But Neil knows what he heard. He’s not as stupid to ignore the implications of the words he heard.

“I… Umm… Is that… Are you sure you’re safe?”

Stuart laughs. Loud and all-consuming. “I’m sorry, what?”

Neil repeats the words in his head and… Oh. “No! Not like that! Jesus. Just… You know who he is, and it might be, I don’t know, dangerous.”

“Kid. Calm down. This isn’t news. Okay, maybe it’s news for you. But it’s been a thing for a while now. As in… years. Now tell me what you’re calling for and let’s never talk about this again. Okay?”

 _Holy shit._ Kevin is going to die when he hears this. Neil blinks. “Right. I’m sending you a name and I need an address, cell phone and whatever contact information you can get. Here’s the tricky part. He lives in Germany. Can you do it?”

Stuart huffs. “I can do anything. Send me the name and give me a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Stuart.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

Neil sends the text to Stuart and waits. In a few minutes, he has an address, cell and landline numbers, multiple emails, twitter account, instagram account and a list of old addresses in the US. 

Neil calculates the time difference. 11 PM in SC, 5 PM in Germany. 

Neil dials the cell number. 

“Hallo?” 

“Nicholas Hemmick?”

“Uhh, yes.”

“My name’s Neil Josten. We need to talk.”

  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Neil stands in front of Aaron’s door rethinking this whole conversation before he knocks. Aaron’s head pops up, sleepy and messy and so, so not like Andrew’s. How he ever thought Andrew could be Aaron is beyond him. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Aarons says. 

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Umm, yeah, sure.”

Neil follows Aaron in. The living room looks dull and sterile without Kevin’s Exy stuff, the ridiculous paintings by local artists from California Jean sent him, and the red beanbag chairs lying around. Aaron’s new roommate is one of his biochem friends and apparently their idea of furniture is as boring as biochem sounded. 

Aaron sinks into the couch and smooths his hair back. “Okay, what is it?”

Neil doesn’t sit. It’s pointless, really. He knows how this will go. Neil will push Aaron too hard and Aaron will lash out and Neil will leave the room way too soon. He talks anyway. 

“I need to know what you said to your cousin so he stopped talking to Andrew.”

Aaron’s face wipes out of emotion but tiny sparks of anger burn in his eyes. 

“Did you seriously come to my room at 7 in the morning to talk to me about Andrew?”

Neil wants to slap him. “Aren’t you supposed to get over sibling rivalry at like… twelve?

“It’s not a rivalry!” Aaron sits up at the edge of the couch. “You don’t know what he’s done, Neil! You have no idea what he’s done to me! So don’t come here and talk to me like I’m the problem and I’ve hurt your precious new toy.”

Neil swallows and brings out Nathaniel’s serene composure. “I know plenty. Now tell me about Nicholas.”

Aaron’s face turns bright red. He jumps off his seat and pushes Neil backward. Neil lets him. 

It might work out well if Aaron thinks he has control over the situation. So Neil lets himself be pushed back until he hits the door, Aaron’s hand pressed at his sternum, trembling. 

“You’re so blinded. You’re… I told you he would hurt you and you just _choose_ not to believe me. But he will. This is what he does. So stop acting like he's some kind of a broken victim. Anything I’ve done to him, he did to me first.”

“Right. Tilda for Nicholas, got it.” Aaron freezes. “God, you two have a shitload of problems to work through. But guess what, I’m not your fucking psychiatrist. I do think you should see one, though. Both of you that is. Now, can we go back to Nicholas?”

“You… You know.” Aaron’s voice cracks. 

“I know.”

“And you just don’t care.”

“I’m not in a position to judge anyone.” 

Aaron laughs. “No? Because it seems to me that the only one you don’t want to judge is Andrew. You’ve been acting like I’m the bad guy here all along.”

Neil pushes Aaron away. Damn, he can be such an annoying little shit sometimes. 

“I’m not saying what he did was okay. Apparently, you both have done some pretty stupid shit to each other. But hey, here’s a crazy thought, maybe you should _fucking talk about it_!”

Aaron laughs. “I’m not talking to the freak. He deserves everything I’ve done. If it’s up to me, Nicky will never talk to him again, and honestly, it’s in Nicky’s best interest, too.”

Neil looks at Aaron as if he’s never seen him before. The cruel line of his sneer, the glint of something dark and vile in his eyes, the cold expression of his face. He’s never thought Aaron, his friend who cries at Toy Story and blushes whenever someone mentions he’s pretty, could be like this. Neil likes the Aaron who stood by him when he got in trouble with some dumb frat boys, the one who let him drill about Exy and chess for hours without a single complaint. This Aaron right in front of him, he doesn’t even know. 

Neil turns on his heel and slams the door behind him. 

*

The thing is, Neil has no idea how meeting Nicholas Hemmick will go. If he’s anything like Aaron when it comes to Andrew, then it should be one hell of a talk. But the second Neil sees Nicholas enter the cafe in Columbia he knows the man’s as soft as a marshmallow. 

Nicholas looks nothing like the twins. He’s taller with bronze skin and dark, deep eyes. He looks almost scared when he scans the cafe looking for Neil. Considering Neil is the only redhead inside, it takes Nicholas two seconds to spot him.

Neil takes in every gesture, every change in Nicholas’ face as he walks to the table and sits down. 

“Hey. Umm, Neil, I guess?”

Neil nods. “Hi, Nicholas.”

“Nicky. It’s just Nicky.”

“Okay. Nicky. Wanna get a cup of coffee first?”

Nicky swallows his nerves and walks over to the counter to order himself a drink. Neil watches him as if he expects his secrets to spill in the air around him in a cloud. 

When they finally sit across from each other, Neil has already decided on a strategy. Nicky Hemmick looks way too soft to have cut Andrew out of his life for no reason. 

“So. I’m a friend of Andrew and Aaron’s, as I mentioned on the phone.”

Nicky pales. “I find it hard to believe you’re friends with both of them.”

Neil shrugs. “I like challenges.” 

“You said it was important. I flew from Germany for that so get to the point.”

Nicky doesn’t sound angry or annoyed. Just wrecked. Does he already suspect anything? If Aaron wasn’t such a little prick, Neil would’ve been prepared for this. 

Instead, he has to improvise. 

“Okay. Here’s the thing. I go to PSU with Aaron. Andrew moved here this year. I’m sure you know the twins are… complicated.”

Nicky snorts. “No shit.”

“I know you stopped talking to Andrew. And I know there’s something very messed up there. So. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Nicky leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “You said it was life or death. How is my not talking to my cousin _life or death_?”

“I might have exaggerated a bit. Look, I only want to help.”

Nicky narrows his eyes. “Why? Why do you care as much as to make me come here from across the ocean?”

“I’ve spent most of my life not caring about anyone. Let’s just say someone taught me life’s worth a lot more when I do. So yeah, I care.”

The truth is, Neil never gave much thought about the reasons why he’s doing this. Maybe Aaron is right. Maybe Neil is judging him and sparing Andrew of the same scrutiny. Maybe he wants to fix this for Andrew. But… what if… What if this isn’t just about Andrew? Neil wants Andrew, and now they’re spending so much time together, Neil wants more. He wants Andrew in his life, every day, in PSU, in any other place they might end up. Not that he’s planning on saying that out loud any time soon. But being with Andrew means losing Aaron. Permanently. And sure as hell, Aaron being a little asshole since Andrew came along is driving Neil nuts, but he can still fix this. 

And at the end of the day, his own feelings aside, he knows the twins will be a lot better with each other in their lives. This whole tension bullshit will end and… alright, maybe Neil feels a little guilty that he pushed Aaron away. A little. 

“Okay.” Nicky says. “Do you know Andrew was in the foster system?”

“Assume I know about most of his life.”

“So, the twins met when they were fifteen, Andrew was in juvie then. Burglary and he threatened someone with a knife to his throat. Anyway, Andrew moved in with Aaron and their mother. He was seventeen at the time. Then Tilda died and the twins were alone. My parents were their legal guardians. Not the best idea in retrospect, because… well, my parents are assholes. I was in Germany when it happened but I flew back. I wanted to stay and help Andrew and Aaron. If there was anything I could do to move them out of my parents’ house, I was sure as hell going to try. The court had already assigned my parents as their legal guardians and I had to fight that in court if I wanted to change it. So I made a deal with my parents. The twins get to live by themselves in the house I got them in Columbia, and I will never come home with my boyfriend, Erik, and embarrass them in front of everyone they know.”

“Oh. Good old homophobia at its finest?”

“Mhm. You have no idea. Anyway, they agreed. As long as they could forget they have a gay son, they’d do anything. I traveled back and forth between Columbia and Germany as much as I could. I had to make sure my parents stayed out of the twins’ business. Then Andrew and Aaron turned eighteen, I got a job in Germany and I couldn’t travel as much but we kept in touch. But Andrew… I don’t know, he started missing our weekly facetime talks. It was just Aaron. He was clearly avoiding me. And then Aaron told me why. He said Andrew had a problem with me and Erik… said he didn’t want an f-word of a cousin, guess which f-word. I wanted to talk to him, to… I don’t know, explain this changes nothing? And every time I tried, he found an excuse to cut the conversation short. Then Aaron called me one day and told me that they had a fight about me and Erik and Andrew said if I ever call him again he’ll hurt Erik. So I stopped.”

Neil’s head is buzzing. “He said what?”

“Yeah. I don’t hate my cousin, Neil. I really don’t. But I couldn’t risk him hurting the one I love. If he wants me out of his life, I’m not going to force myself into it. Especially if that's a threat to Erik.”

Neil swallows. God, Aaron is beyond petty. No. This isn’t pettiness. This is downright cruel. 

Sometimes, when Neil is lost, he has those weird conversations with a tiny voice in his head that sounds a lot like his mother’s. 

_Okay, okay, well, Andrew did kill Tilda, it was a justified reaction._

_But it was to protect Aaron. Does Aaron really not understand that?_

_What’s there to understand? He killed her. And he did make his girlfriend break up with Aaron._

_But Aaron did the same with Andrew’s best friend. They were even._

_This isn’t about getting even. This is about who gets the upper hand._

Fuck.

“Nicky…” Neil runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t think Andrew ever said any of that.”

“What are you… Why would Aaron lie to me?”

“I don’t know,” Neil lies. 

“How do you know that? Has he said that?” Nicky looks like he’s about to throw up. “Neil, if he said that he lied, I have to… Oh, God.”

Neil grips Nicky’s wrist. “Hey, hey. Breathe. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Nicky chews on his lip but it does little to conceal the quiver. Neil was right. Nicky Hemmick is one huge, soft cupcake. He reminds him of a softer version of Matt. 

“I know for a fact that there’s no way in hell Andrew would have a problem with you and Erik. He’s… not like that. Believe me.”

Nicky swallows. “I need to call Erik. Like… now.”

“Okay. What if you stayed for a few days?”

Nicky swallows. His eyes tear up. “Sure. Yeah, I can do that. I can stay in the house.”

“Good. I think you should talk. You and the twins. It’s Thanksgiving in a couple of days. Call Aaron, get him to come over. I’ll make sure Andrew comes along. Just um… don’t tell Aaron we talked. He’s in a weird state of mind right now and I’m pretty sure he’ll say a lot of shit so you three don’t end up in the same room together.”

“Do you want to come, too?”

“I… umm…”

“It might help.”

“Yeah. Yes. Okay. You know, fuck it, I’ll order a turkey.”

Nicky laughs. “You’re so weird.”

Neil rises from his seat and pats Nicky’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Then he leaves Nicky in the cafe and drives back to PSU. If Nicky breaks and calls Aaron to talk about this, the whole plan will collapse. Aaron will refuse to come and he’ll say fuck knows what to Nicky. 

There’s nothing Neil can do about this other than to hope Nicky has a better sense of judgment than to fuck this up like that. 

~~~

Andrew wakes up with his phone buzzing on his nightstand. If this is another death threat message from Aaron, he’s going to lose it and actually stab the stupid fucker. 

Ever since Aaron saw Neil dance with Andrew in Eden’s, the asshole hasn’t stopped threatening Andrew. 

Andrew hasn’t responded to any of them until yesterday when all he got was a _“Please don’t hurt my friend”_. 

He hates Aaron. He really really does. But even so, he had to admit that this came from a place of caring, so he replied _“I’m not planning on it”_. 

Andrew grabs his phone and unlocks the screen.

**Pipe Dream [6:32]**

_If you skip gym today, I’ll make you the best abomination of a coffee you’ve ever tasted._

_With enough sugar to give you a rush._

**To: Pipe Dream [6:34]**

_Hate you._

**Pipe Dream [6:35]**

_Good to know._

_My room._

Andrew takes a quick shower. He doesn’t keep track of how fast he gets ready but he knows it’s a record time. Ahhh, fuck Neil and his stupid face. 

He knocks on Neil’s door forcing himself to look unfazed by the idea they’re going to be alone in Neil’s room, _oh God_. 

“Where’s that amazing coffee?” Andrew says as soon as Neil opens the door. 

The redhead laughs. “Ah, and here I was thinking you’re coming to see me.”

“You’re not that special,” Andrew lies through his teeth. 

He pushes past Neil and gets inside. The room smells like coffee and cinnamon candles. He watches as Neil pours coffee in two mugs, then mixes Andrew’s cup with cream and two spoons of sugar, and he decides to pretend it does nothing to him that Neil knows how he likes his coffee. 

He crowds the space behind Neil and Neil stills in his spot for a moment, huffing a small laugh. Andrew leans in whispering the question in Neil’s hair, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Andrew kisses his neck making Neil shiver. He grasps him by the hips and twists him around. Neil pressed against the counter and Andrew’s lips nipping at his throat might be Andrew’s new favorite thing in the world. 

He licks a stripe along Neil’s neck, ending with a flick of tongue over his earlobe. The sounds that come out of Neil’s mouth are both torture and bliss, and Andrew is walking through uncharted territory here. He’s kissed a lot of people, touched a lot of people, and none of them made him feel like this. 

Neil’s hands sweep in Andrew’s hair pulling him to his mouth. Kissing Neil is incendiary. It leaves Andrew panting, and always, _always_ , wanting more. Neil kisses a path from Andrew’s collarbone to his jawline and Andrew hears the words coming out of his own mouth as if someone else is saying them, “Mark my neck.”

Neil pulls back a notch. His face is red and so gorgeous, it’s infuriating. “I… I don’t really know how to—”

Andrew smirks. Neil’s breath hitches at that smirk every time. “I’ll show you.”

He keeps Neil pressed against the counter, his fingers digging harder into his hips, and he sucks softly at Neil’s collarbone. Neil moans his name. 

Fuck, the goddamn redhead is going to kill him. 

Andrew licks over the small bruise and looks up at Neil. If he'd known something as simple as a hickey would make the striker look so sinfully wrecked, he would’ve done it a dozen times by now. 

Neil’s breath shivers. He doesn’t move his hands from Andrew’s hair, and when he presses his lips against Andrew’s neck and sucks in, the grip tightens. Andrew swallows down a moan. 

He slips his fingertips under Neil’s shirt. The redhead tenses. And just like that, his lips are off Andrew’s skin, his hands let go of his hair and Neil looks like he’s about to throw up. 

Andrew steps back. “I’m sorry.”

Neil chews at his lip before he talks. “No. It’s not… It’s not that I don’t… I want you to touch me. I do. You just… I don’t want to freak you out.”

Andrew blinks. “What?”

“I have scars.”

“I know, you told me that.”

“Yeah. Knowing that I have them and seeing them are two very different things.”

Andrew steps back into Neil’s space. “You’re not going to _freak me out_. But I won’t touch you like that unless you say so.”

“I… you can touch me anywhere. Just do it over the shirt. For now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Can I kiss you again?”

Andrew smirks and catches Neil’s lips determined to kiss him senseless. 

Who cares about coffee?

*

Andrew _hates_ surprises. He always has. How he let Neil convince him to meet the cousin who cut all ties with him years ago is beyond him. He considers it a temporary mental impairment. Neil’s lips on him tend to do that. 

“I hate you,” Andrew mumbles as he struggles to keep his heartbeat even. 

“I know, I know, you remind me all the time.”

“What made you think it was a good idea to call my fucking cousin, Neil?”

“I didn’t say it was a good idea.” Neil catches his hand and rubs his thumb over Andrew’s knuckles. “You don’t know what you looked like in the hospital when you mentioned Nicky. You were just so… sad. And I just knew something really fucked up must have happened cause who the hell would walk away from you?”

Andrew laughs at that. “You’re such a sappy idiot.”

“You like me.”

“I never said that.”

Neil brings Andrew’s hand up and kisses his knuckles. “You don’t really have to. Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this shit and get the hell out of here. You owe me, by the way. I’ll take your payment in Ben and Jerry’s. Chocolate fudge brownie.”

Neil sighs. “How are you alive? You probably have sugar syrup instead of blood at this point.”

Andrew glares at him but that only makes Neil smile, the damn heathen. 

Before he knocks, Andrew takes a deep breath. He hasn’t seen Nicky since before college. Three years is a lot of time. He wants to be angry—Nicky abandoned him, after all, like everyone else in his life—but he’s not. He’s been through all of this with Gregory, he talked about it with Bee, too. How could he be angry with Nicky if Nicky did what he did because Aaron manipulated him? Andrew just wants to know what his idiot brother said to him to make him run away from Andrew like he had the plague. 

Andrew knocks. Nicky opens the door with a small, broken smile. 

“Hey, Andrew. Come in.”

Andrew takes a moment to look at his cousin. He’s nervous, running his hand through his hair a few times, his lip quivering ever so slightly. 

Andrew steps in and Neil follows. 

The second he walks into the living room, his throat tightens. Fuck. 

FUCK. 

He’s going to kill Neil. He’s… God, he can’t believe he fell for the same bullshit twice. It’s undoubtedly Neil’s fucking idiotic idea. 

Aaron’s face drops when he sees Andrew. 

“Are you fucking serious, Neil?” Andrew growls. 

“Hey, this isn’t my doing!” Neil's face is set in stone.

Andrew can’t really tell if Neil is lying. This is another piece of the puzzle he hasn’t quite put together yet. 

“The fuck it isn’t.” 

“I’m out,” Aaron says and grabs his bag off the couch. 

“No one is going anywhere,” Nicky snaps. 

Neil turns to look at him as if Nicky has grown a third arm. A little smile breaks on his face. Fuck. This is _definitely_ Neil’s idea. 

Nicky crosses his arms in front of his chest. “First, Andrew, I’m sorry. I am. I never should’ve stopped trying...”

“Are you fucking serious, Nicky! You know, you _know_ what he did. For fuck’s sake, he held a knife to my fucking girlfriend’s _throat_!”

“Yes. And that’s the only reason why I never doubted you when you told me he said he’d hurt Erik and—”

“You told him _what_?”

Aaron laughs. “Oh, please, you’re going to play wounded now?”

“Fuck you, Aaron!”

“You deserved it, asshole!”

Andrew’s blood boils. He sees red. Three fucking years. Nicky abandoned him for three years because Aaron made him believe Andrew was a threat to him. 

He’s learned to put his anger under control by now, but right in this second, Andrew lets go. He slams his fist into Aaron’s jaw knocking him off his feet. 

It escalates from there in seconds. Aaron kicks him behind the knee, dragging him down, and it’s all elbows and punches and flares of pain. 

~~~

Neil watches the twins brawl on the floor like a pair of wild dogs. Well, fuck. It suddenly reminds him of Jean and Kevin a couple of months after they left the Nest. All the unsaid things between them boiling like a volcano about to erupt. It ended up the same way—split lips and bruises and both of them screaming at each other’s face, all the black things that ripped through their souls. Until it was all gone. 

Violence, while it is a horrible thing in the general case, sometimes is the only way to drag the darkness out. 

When Aaron punches Andrew, Neil considers throwing a knife at his head for a second. He doesn’t. He doesn’t as much as flinch. The vile bitterness in his stomach threatens to tear him apart as he watches Andrew get hurt. But this is what the twins need. 

So Neil shoves it all down, crosses his arms and digs his nails into his skin. 

Aaron shouts at Andrew’s face as he shoves him backward. “I hate you. I wish I never fucking met you, you fucking dick!”

“Oh, believe me, _I know_! I should’ve let you there in your miserable little existence while she beat you within an inch of your life.”

Aaron’s face turns bright red. He switches to German, probably thinking Neil wouldn’t understand. “This isn’t what happened! She _loved_ me! I’m sorry she left you, but you had no right to take her from me.”

“She broke three of your ribs, you pathetic piece of shit! You were in the ER three times just for the time I was there! For fuck’s sake Aaron, are you that much of a fucking idiot? How many times should I have watched her break you? How many times should I have pretended I didn’t see you were high as a kite because of her?”

“Don’t pretend you did it because you cared! You did it because you wanted your fucking revenge. I had nothing to do with it.”

Andrew punches him again. “Fucking imbecile! You would’ve ended up overdosing or with a broken skull, but sure, she fucking _loved_ you.”

Aaron pushes Andrew violently backward, his face is a mess, tears and blood from his split lip smearing on his skin. “I should’ve known. When I learned you were in juvie, I should’ve known this is who you are. You’re a violent, selfish psychopath. This is all you know how to do!”

Everything goes still for a heartbeat and then Andrew has Aaron pinned to the floor, a knife pressed against his jugular and his eyes burn like embers. 

“Do it,” Aaron shouts in his face and Andrew freezes. “It won’t make things even, Andrew. It won’t reimburse you for the time you spent in the system, while I grew up with a family. It won’t change fucking anything!”

“You think I hate you because you didn’t end up in the system?”

“I know you do. You despise me for it.”

The twins stare at each other for a long moment, Andrew’s knife still pressed against Aaron’s throat. 

Nicky leans closer to Neil, shaking. He looks wrecked, barely holding himself up on his feet.

“Um, was this a part of your plan?”

“Nope,” Neil says with a loud pop sound at the ‘p’.

Andrew lets go of Aaron, grabs a bottle of liquor from the cabinet and slams the door of his room behind him. 

“I need a drink,” Nicky mumbles. 

“I don’t drink but, fuck it, pour me one, too.”

On a scale from I-accidentally-stole-my-serial-killer-fathers-favorite-knife to I-accidentally-caused-a-mafia-war, how badly did Neil’s plan screw up tonight?

Oh, right. 

Right about unleash-angst-hell-on-earth badly. 

  
  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Andrew can’t see straight. 

The house is dead quiet since Aaron slammed the front door on his way out. The muffled conversation between Nicky and Neil died down a couple of hours ago. 

But Andrew knows they’re both here. Neil is giving him space like the infuriating considerate asshole he is, but Nicky… Nicky made a camp in front of Andrew’s bedroom door two hours ago and he hasn’t moved since. 

Andrew crawls to the door, not entirely sure his legs would bring him there without failing, and turns the lock. He hesitates for a second before he opens it. 

Nicky is a mess on the floor, red puffy eyes and a wrecked face, laced with worry. And guilt. So much of it. 

“Mwhere’s Neil,” Andrew slurs. 

“Sleeping on the couch. I told him to go but he’s a stubborn shit and wouldn’t leave.”

Andrew chokes on a little laugh. He wants to be pissed at Neil, he really does. But can’t bring himself to it. In fact, what he does want is to crawl his way to the couch and curl right next to Neil. 

He hates what the little redhead shit does to him. It’s inconvenient. It’s dangerous. It feels like jumping off a roof. 

“Go t’bed, Nicky.”

“Andrew… I’m so s—”

“Mno, don’t apologize.”

“I don’t know what else to do. I messed up. I was supposed to help you both and I failed in the end. You can’t stand each other. I abandoned you and there’s nothing I can do to fix that.”

Andrew presses his back on the wall holding the door frame for balance. Once he’s settled he drops his head back and turns to look at his cousin, who’s sitting on the floor, holding his knees to his body. 

Once in a therapy session, Gregory talked about the seven steps of forgiveness, and Andrew said, ‘Forgiveness is overrated. There's action and consequence and when you do something, you deal with it, you don’t ask for the people you hurt to forgive you. You have no right to.”

Except, that day he went home, wrote down the seven goddamn steps and walked himself through them for Nicky. Acknowledge. Consider. Accept. Determine. Repair. Learn. Forgive. He got stuck at step five: Repair. 

He never had a chance to fix what was broken between Nicky and him, because he had no idea what it was. Andrew only knew the pain of his cousin turning his back on him. 

But now he does. Now, he knows exactly why Nicky shut the door in his face. Figuratively speaking. And he couldn’t blame him for a second because now that he has Neil, he gets it. He gets Nicky had only one choice. 

“I never…” a hiccup, “threatened Erik.”

“I got that. It’s just… It doesn’t matter.”

“‘t does. Is’s just what?”

Nicky sighs and leans his head over his folded knees. “Aaron said you wanted nothing to do with me because of… That you had a problem with Erik and I being… together. So, when he said you wanted me to leave you alone, I didn’t doubt it. I didn’t realize how deep that thing between you and Aaron went. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve… I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Y’thought I had a problem wichyou and Erik.” Andrew laughs. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t stop the sound. This isn’t how he wants to come out to his cousin but fuck it, it’s not like he wouldn’t put two and two together and figure out why Neil is here and what he is to Andrew. Neil isn’t exactly subtle about his feelings. 

_ Feelings _ . Andrew shudders at the thought. 

“Nicky.” Andrew waits until Nicky looks up at him. “I’m gay.”

Nicky stares for a full minute and then a quiet huff of laughter escapes his lips. “God, I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I? Don’t answer that.” Nicky runs a hand over his face. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Mthank you for not lettin' us live wichyour parents. They’re.. Assholes.”

“You have no idea. And please don’t thank me. I’m the one who fucked up here.”

Andrew bites down the urge for a sour comment on the word ‘please’. 

He pictures the list he put together after the session with Gregory. He moves down the list. Repair. Check. Well, it would take time but the door is open and Andrew doesn’t plan on closing it any time soon. 

Step six: Learn. Andrew always thought forgiveness is for the benefit of the wrong-doer. He’s spent years with that belief stuck in his head until Gregory made that stupid analogy about a prison cell made of thorn-walls. One step too far and you get punctured by the thorns. ‘What would it mean to  _ you  _ to forgive someone who hurt you, Andrew? It’s finally finding the shears to cut through the thorn-walls. Think about it.’

And Andrew has. He’s thought about it a lot. He’s never going to be the forgiving type, he knows that, but… Nicky. _Learn_. Forgiving Nicky would mean peace. Step six. Check.

Step seven. 

Andrew draws a slow breath. “I forgive you, Nicky.” Check.

Nicky chokes on a sound. “I… Thank you. I hope you feel the same tomorrow when you sober up.”

Andrew laughs. “D’pends on the sugar amount you dump in my coffee.”

Andrew vaguely remembers leaning against Nicky’s arm, stumbling his way to bed. He wakes up covered in a blanket with a glass of water on the nightstand and it doesn’t make him feel like the air has been sucked out of the room because someone else was there while he was unconscious. He feels safe. 

*

Nicky is back in Germany, but he promised to call. And he does. It’s been two weeks and every few days Nicky calls him. Aaron, on the other hand, avoids him like the plague. What else is new? Andrew can live with his brother hating him as long as he has Nicky back. 

Everything’s good. And that in itself is a sign that something is about to fuck up spectacularly. No, Andrew isn’t being cynical, it’s just how things work. How they have always worked in his life. 

He pushes the thought away. Currently, Neil has his head leaning against Andrew’s shoulder while they watch a documentary about penguins. Andrew couldn’t care less about penguins but he cares a whole lot about Neil’s body curled up next to him. Screw the penguins. 

Matt is spending the night in Dan’s bedroom, which leaves the whole dorm for Andrew and Neil. Andrew decides to pretend this isn’t sending a tiny shiver in the pit of his stomach. 

“Do you want dessert?” Neil says as soon as the documentary is over. 

“Always. Wait, did you buy something sweet? Really?  _ Really  _ really?”

Neil huffs a laugh and heads to the fridge. “Hey, I don’t hate sweets. Entirely.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying. This one particularly, I like. It’s french lemon tart. And I didn’t buy it. I baked it.”

Andrew blinks. “What?”

Neil waltzes back to the couch with two plates in his hands. 

“Seriously? You baked it?”

Neil hands him a fork and slumps down in his seat with a loud sigh. “Would you just try it before judging?”

“I wasn’t…” Oh, he definitely isn’t judging. He might be having a micro heart attack, though. Neil’s too fucking perfect. 

Andrew devours the piece. 

“You like it?”

Andrew glares at him as a response. There is something utterly disturbing by the way Neil can figure him out. It’s a first. Andrew has never had to deal with this before. 

Neil chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You’re the worst,” Andrew mumbles and pulls Neil closer. He traces his cheekbone with his fingertips, and Neil stares at him with those arctic blue eyes and Andrew’s breath catches a little. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil says and he’s already kissing him. 

Andrew takes Neil’s hand and presses it against his own chest. The thing about Neil is, he’d never take anything he’s not being offered willingly. Andrew isn’t one to offer much. He never has been. He hooks up with guys, kisses them, gets them off, and in a few rare cases, if they know how to follow instructions, lets them do the same, and that’s it. But Neil makes him  _ want  _ things. Makes him want to give him more, to be open and vulnerable and, goddamn it,  _ soft _ . 

His fantasies about Neil range from having him naked in his bed and kissing every inch of him to doing things Andrew wouldn’t dare to ask for. Not yet. Maybe someday. 

Neil slides his hand up Andrew’s chest and buries it into his hair. His tongue pushes in Andrew’s mouth, hot and slow and driving him completely crazy. Andrew can’t decide where he wants to keep his hands—he wants to touch Neil fucking  _ everywhere _ . He settles for his waist. 

Neil kisses him like he’s going to die if he stops. It’s intoxicating. He bites Andrew's lower lip, letting a low whining sound out, and Andrew’s self-control flies out the window. He glides his hands up Neil’s back and pulls him closer. 

The redhead climbs in Andrew’s lap and straddles him, all heat and shivery breaths. A spark travels down Andrew’s spine. His fists clasp Neil’s shirt at the back in handfuls as he runs his tongue along the redhead’s jawline. 

“Take it off,” Neil whispers and Andrew pulls back. Neil’s eyes are wide, his lip caught between his teeth. He pulls Andrew’s hand off his back and presses it onto his stomach, right under the hem of his shirt. 

“Neil, are you—”

“I’m sure, take it off. You have to see them… eventually. And I will understand if you—”

Andrew shuts him up with a kiss. He’s not going anywhere. To most people scars don’t mean the same thing they do to Andrew. Scars are not an aesthetic  _ problem _ , they’re proof, they’re survival and strength and willpower, and Andrew refuses to look at Neil’s as anything other than that. 

He slides his hands under Neil’s shirt, reveling in the heated tingles that run through his body at the touch of bare skin, and pushes it over Neil’s head. 

Neil is shaking, his face is flushed and he chews on his lip, his hand clutches Andrew’s shoulder tightly as if to keep himself still. 

Andrew runs his fingertips from Neil’s collarbone to his stomach, taking in every scarred wound. He knows Neil’s been running for years, so the thin lines from knives and puckered flesh from a bullet are not a surprise. But there are others that definitely didn’t come from a life on the run, like the one on his shoulder which is clearly a burn mark from a hot iron. 

Andrew gently pushes Neil off him until he’s sitting on the couch again. 

“Drew,” Neil whispers barely audible, his voice trembling. 

Andrew lays a hand on Neil’s chest and pushes him down, then crawls over and hovers over his lips, looking into those gorgeous eyes. He’s a little weak in the knees and his head is getting fuzzier, but none of it matters. Neil does. And for the first time, the thought doesn’t scare Andrew. 

“You’re beautiful,” Andrew whispers against Neil’s lips and presses a featherlight kiss. 

“Drew.” Neil is still trembling. 

“Is it still yes?”

“Yes.”

Andrew kisses him again, deeper and slower, and he doesn’t care he looks desperate. He moves down, starting with the burn scar on Neil’s shoulder. He kisses it, and then keeps going, tracing his lips over each scar, until he reaches the waistband on his sweats. 

Neil swipes his hand through Andrew’s hair and grips tight, panting and flushed, and so gorgeous. Andrew hooks his fingers onto the fabric and kisses the soft stretch of skin above it. He grazes his teeth over Neil’s hipbone and sucks a small bruise. Neil moans his name. A honey-sweet sound that goes straight to Andrew’s heart. 

He looks up meeting Neil’s fiery stare. 

“Neil, I want to—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Yes, Drew…”

Andrew pulls his sweats down along with his boxers and Neil drops his head on the cushions with a long string of curses... he thinks. In fucking French! God, Andrew swears the redhead is trying to kill him. On purpose. 

And for that Andrew wants to reduce him to a blabbering flustered mess. 

He wraps his fingers around the base of Neil’s cock and twirls his tongue around the head. Neil shifts a little, propping himself up on his elbows. He catches his lips between his teeth, his face flushed and his eyes wide. He’s so beautiful, Andrew's heart might burst in his chest. 

“You can keep your hands in my hair."

Neil pushes out something that sounds like ‘okay’ which turns into a moan halfway as Andrew wraps his lips around Neil’s head. Neil buries one hand in Andrew’s hair, not pushing but his grip on the locks tighten enough to make his scalp tingle. 

Andrew swallows him whole and hums, drawing a shamelessly loud moan out of Neil. He loves doing that, more so than ever now that it’s Neil; he loves the delicate feeling of control, the weight against his tongue, the taste of Neil. 

Neil arches back, and Andrew speeds up, watching the redhead through his lashes. Neil scrapes his nails into the back cushion of the couch and lets out a litany of  _ god _ , and  _ fuck _ , and  _ Drew _ , and he comes in Andrew’s mouth with a broken whimper and Andrew’s name dripping like honey out of his mouth. 

Andrew drags his lips the way up to Neil’s mouth, kissing every scar on his path. Neil hauls him into a bruising kiss. He must still taste himself on Andrew’s mouth but he doesn’t seem to care at all. 

It takes a few minutes until Neil finds his words again. Andrew can’t help the smug smile, which only makes Neil bite his lower lip and lick into his mouth again. 

“Do you want to—” 

“Just kiss me,” Andrew whispers against his lips. “Just kiss me now.”

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Neil to touch him like that. He does. And this is what scares him the most. He trusts Neil more than he’s ever trusted anyone. And what if he lets him… no,  _ wants  _ him to do what he hasn’t allowed anyone else to? Neil’s hands all over Andrew’s bare skin, Andrew higher than he’s ever climbed before with Neil’s body pressed flush against his. He chokes at the thought. There would be no going back from that. No letting go. 

But then, does he even want to let go? 

He silences the voice in his head with Neil’s lips against his own. They kiss until they’re breathless, until Andrew’s head is hazy and soft fire consumes his body. 

Until he falls asleep with his head on Neil’s chest. 

**~~~**

Neil hasn’t slept so peacefully in years. He’s blissed-out, a puddle of warmth on the couch with Andrew’s head on his chest, quiet snores, and solid heartbeat against his ribcage. 

It’s probably what heaven would feel like if it was real. 

And then someone bangs on the door repeatedly. So much for bliss. Today is the Christmas Banquet and Neil swears if this is Allison coming with outfit ideas, he’ll personally burn that red three-thousand-dollar dress she loves so much. 

Andrew jumps off rubbing his eyes. “What the ever-loving fuck!”

Neil growls and stomps to the door. As soon as he opens it, Kevin hurls inside and collapsed on the floor by the couch. 

He’s shaking, face pale as a ghost, and he’s holding a piece of paper in his hand. All that comes out of his mouth are broken sobs. 

“Kev, what’s up? Did someone die?” Neil says. 

Kevin shakes his head. Neil grabs his shirt off the floor where Andrew threw it last night and pulls it over his head. He looks at Andrew and mouths “Sorry”. 

Andrew nods. He’s never questioned Neil’s relationship with Kevin, and fuck knows most people have. But they don’t understand. They will never know what Kevin and Jean were to Neil when he had no one else. 

Andrew does. He’s never, not once, acted like Neil and Kevin’s relationship was ‘too weird’ and ‘too much’. The blond simply walks to the counter, pulls out three mugs, and starts making coffee. 

Neil kneels down in front of Kevin. He clasps his face between his palms. “What is it?”

Kevin sobs again. 

“Kev, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“He’s going to… He’s going to kill you.”

At the corner of his eye, Neil sees Andrew freeze with his hand half-way to the coffee maker. 

“Who’s going to kill me?”

“Riko.”

Neil snorts. “This asshole again? Kev.”

Kevin clutches the paper in his hand until it crumbles. 

“Kevin, look at me.”

“Read the fucking note, Neil.”

It isn’t the first time Kevin thinks Riko would kill Neil. The asshole has used him and Jean to play mind games with Kevin more times than Neil can count. But he’s never gone through with it. Obviously. And he won’t. That would mean crossing his brother and in an empire such as the Moriyama’s, this isn’t just a family feud, this is a death sentence. 

Neil unwraps Kevin’s fingers and opens the note. 

_ Save me a dance, Day. Or I’ll make sure your little redhead bitch doesn’t make it out of the hall.  _

_ Love, R. _

“Kevin.” Kevin is still frozen in his spot on the floor. “Wanna sit on the couch?”

Kevin shakes his head. 

“Want me to call Jean?”

Another shake. 

“Kevin, he will not kill me. We’ve done this before. He can’t.”

Kevin sobs. Before Neil can say anything else, Kevin has him in a tight embrace and he’s muffling a fit of sobs in his shoulder. Neil rubs the back of his neck, desperate to calm him down. 

“Kev, it’s ok. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll call Stuart and he’ll handle it. Nothing will happen to me or you or Jean, I promise.”

“He won’t stop until I go back.”

“You’re not going back.”

Kevin stops sobbing and stays with his head against Neil’s shoulder until his breaths stop sounding like he’s drowning. He finally looks up. 

Andrew brings the mugs to the coffee table and sinks into the couch.

Kevin snuffles. He slowly rises from the floor and sits in one of the chairs, wiping his face with the back of his hand. 

“Sorry I… barged in like that. I was…”

“Really? Since when do we apologize to each other for those things?”

“Since I find you half-naked with a boy in your room,” Kevin forces a weak smile. 

Andrew chokes on his coffee. 

Neil doesn’t need a mirror to know his face is flushed red. “Shut up.”

Kevin makes a zipping gesture against his lips. 

“I think you should go for a run, take a long shower and then pick the shirt that is most likely to annoy the shit out of Riko, and show up for the banquet. I’ll be fine. I’ll deal with this. And for fuck’s sake, do not, I’m serious,  _ do not _ let him get into your head.”

“Not everyone has your unlimited ability to tell people to go fuck themselves and not care they might  _ actually  _ kill you for it.”

“I know, it’s a talent.” Neil smirks. 

“Stupidity more likely.” 

“Get out,” Neil gestures in the air in fake exasperation which only causes Kevin to laugh. 

When Kevin shuts the door behind him, Andrew leans over, his arms crossed and his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“How serious is this?”

Neil moves to sit next to him and offers his hand. If he’s being completely honest, this isn’t for Andrew’s benefit. He needs his touch desperately. 

“It’s going to be fine. Riko is an asshole. He’s threatened Kevin to hurt me and Jean dozens of times.”

Andrew squeezes his hand tightly. “And this is supposed to make me feel better how?”

“Umm.. he hasn’t done it? He’s full of shit.”

“What does he want Kevin for?”

Neil leans closer and looks at Andrew’s shoulder before he asks, “Can I?”

Andrew pulls him closer and Neil leans his head against him. The aftermath of everything Andrew made him feel last night still buzzes across his skin. He needs to be touched. By Andrew. 

Neil picks his words carefully. He’s told Andrew about the Moriyamas, about the Hatfords, but nothing in detail. This isn’t about trust. Andrew will never let any of that slip, Neil knows it. But the less he knows, the safer he will be. And there’s nothing Neil wants more than to keep Andrew safe. 

“You know he was in Evermore with Jean, right? My uncle got them out when Kevin was sixteen. That story Kevin told before the Ravens game, what Riko made him do to Jean… this is just one of many. Riko has done… things. To both of them. He’s fucked with their heads for years, Andrew. 

Riko is obsessed with Kevin. He burned the Fox Tower because of him. He tried to hurt you because of him. He will cross every line so he can get him back in Evermore. And the easiest way to do that is to force him to go back by himself. This is what that note is. Nothing more. But I wasn’t lying. He can't hurt me. If he hurts me or Kevin or Jean, he crosses his brother’s direct orders. This isn’t something that they will let him live down. It’s a disgrace to the family. They don’t take things like that lightly. Not even from their own blood.”

Andrew runs his fingers through Neil’s hair making Neil melt under the touch. “Are you going to call your uncle, then?”

“No need to. I’ll call him if I need him.”

“Neil.”

“It’s going to be fine. Riko is messing with Kevin’s head. Doesn’t mean he’s messing with mine. I know what he can and can’t do. He can’t touch me.”

Andrew kisses his forehead. “Just so we’re clear, if he tries, I’m gonna do _very_ stupid things.”

Neil laughs. “Aw, I knew you cared.”

“Nope. I still hate you.”

“Sure you do.” Neil turns to face him. His fingertips ghost over Andrew’s cheek. He wants to put his feelings in words. He wants Andrew to know, thinks he deserves to know. But he’s never been great with that. He tries anyway. “Drew.”

“Neil.”

“You don’t umm… have to say anything. This isn’t why I’m saying it. And I don’t mean to scare you away or something. I just…”

“I know. I really  _ really  _ hate you, too.”

Neil laughs. “You’re such a dick.”

Andrew catches the back of his neck. “Yes or—”

“Yes.” Neil muffles his answer in the kiss he presses into Andrew’s lips. 

*

Kevin is drunk halfway through the Christmas Banquet. Jean holds him together with soft words in his ear or his arms wrapped around his shoulders, but Neil knows it could all fall apart if Riko makes the tiniest move. And the bastard will, Neil knows that. 

And he’s right. 

He loses Kevin from his sight an hour before midnight. He checks everywhere. The bathrooms, the Trojans’ table, even makes a quick circle around the Ravens in case someone has Kevin cornered. 

His heart is in his throat when he comes back to the Foxes’ table. 

Neil dials Kevin’s phone for the fifteenth time. Nothing. A few rings, then voicemail. Jean finds him a few minutes later. 

“Neil, where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know. Did he say anything to you?”

“He was acting weird but…”

Andrew walks to Neil and presses a hand on the low of his back. 

“Weird how?” Neil says. 

“He was really drunk and talking about how he needs to protect me and you and he’s being stupid. I tried to calm him down but he was really fucked up.”

Neil presses a hand over his eyes. “Shit, shit, shit.” Kevin can’t be this fucking stupid. 

Andrew leans closer. “What do you wanna bet he’s with the Raven asshole?”

“I know! I fucking know, Drew! I just… I can’t find him!” Neil’s voice is breaking. He hates sounding like that. It’s the same voice he had when Nathan had him locked in that basement, right before he tried to cut him down. 

Andrew’s hand slips to his waist and holds him tight. “Neil. Breathe.”

“I’m…”

“Breathe,” Andrew whispers in Neil’s hair. Neil leans closer, pressing his cheek against the blond’s head and forces a few deep breaths. 

“I need to find him,” Neil says. 

“We are. We’re going to find him and I’m going to kill that fucking bastard.” Jean’s radiating pure rage. 

“You’re not killing anyone. We already have  _ one  _ problem. How about we solve it without causing a fucking mafia war?”

Jean growls. “I’m going to search outside. What hotel are the Raven dicks staying at? We should go there.”

Andrew lets go of Neil and gulps his drink. “No need. The Ravens can tell us where His Majesty Riko is.”

Jean snorts. “And how do you plan to make them do that?”

“Ask politely,” Andrew says and strides right to the Ravens table. 

Neil follows. Oh shit. He should’ve called Stuart. 

Andrew walks right over to the Ravens’ vice-captain, which, in Neil’s opinion, is nothing more than an empty title. Andrew catches the guy by the collar of the shirt and slams him against the table, a knife pressed at his throat. The tip digs in, letting a few drops crawl down the Raven’s skin. 

“Here’s how this goes. You tell me where Riko is and you get to see another day. Ask me if I care about jail or the Moriyamas.” Someone tries to grab Andrew and Neil is not having it. He kicks the asshole in the stomach sending him to the floor. 

Jean is not violent by heart, but under a certain type of pressure, he fights back like he means it. The right type of pressure being Neil or Kevin’s wellbeing. He punches another Raven in the face. Blood sprays down the guy’s pristine white shirt. 

“He’s on the roof.” The Raven under Andrew’s knife spits out. “The fuck is wrong with you! You have no idea who you’re messing with!”

Andrew shoves him on the floor. 

“Take care of Jean,” Neil shouts as he bolts for the door. 

“Neil,” Andrew calls behind him but Neil keeps running. 

He slams the door open when he reaches the last floor. Riko turns around at the sound. 

“Oh. Nathaniel. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Kevin sobs. “Why did you come? For God’s sake, Neil—”

“Shut up!” Riko jabs a fist in Kevin’s throat, sending him on his knees, coughing and struggling for a breath. 

That is an odd turn of events, Neil considers. Riko either knows something Neil doesn’t, something that grants he will not get in trouble with Ichirou, or he doesn’t care. Neil isn’t sure which one is more dangerous. 

“Riko. An ass as usual I see.”

“You run your mouth more than you should, Nathaniel.”

“It’s Neil. Memory troubles? Too many balls in the helmet, perhaps?”

Riko steals a step closer. Then another. 

It’s all good. He won’t hurt Neil. He can’t. 

Neil doesn’t move. 

Riko flashes a glass-cut grin. He’s a step away, but it’s all fine. 

Neil’s going to be fine. He just needs the asshole away from Kevin. Riko can’t touch Neil.

“We both know you can’t do anything to—”

Neil freezes. In the space between two heartbeats, Riko has a gun pressed under his chin, and a hand wrapped around his neck. 

“Don’t tell me what I can or cannot do, Butcher Junior. It will not end up well for you.”

“No?” Neil draws a steady breath. Gambling isn’t his thing, especially when it comes to his own life, but his gut is telling him Riko is bluffing. “Shoot me then.”

Riko stares at him. A glint of fury flickers in his eyes. 

Neil looks over his shoulder. 

“Kevin, walk over here, please.”

Kevin’s face is a mess. He fights to swallow down his sobs, quite ineffectively. As soon as he’s at the door, Neil pushes Riko Moriyama away from him. 

Riko sneers. 

“You’ll regret this, Nathaniel. I’ll get what I want, and you’re the last person who can stop me.”

“I’m shaking.” Neil holds his hand up feigning a shiver. Alright, he’s pushing the line here, but honestly, what can Riko do? 

Stuart has a… well, special relationship, evidently, with Ichirou Moriyama. He won’t let his deranged brother kill Stuart’s nephew. Neil might be oblivious to a lot of things but not that.

He turns on his heel and leaves Riko on the roof. 

Downstairs, Neil drags Kevin by the hand before he enters the hall. 

“Don’t ever do this shit again!”

“Neil—”

“No! I don’t need you to protect me. Not from Riko. What were you thinking, Kev?”

“He said he’ll shoot you if I didn’t go with him.”

Neil holds his hand. “He will not. I won’t let you be a fucking martyr. Understand?"

"Neil."

"Say you understand."

"Okay. I won't be, I won't."

"Let’s go in. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Inside the banquet hall, Jean drags Kevin in a quiet corner on the Foxes’ table and wraps his arms around him, whispering in his ear. 

Andrew leans against a column, glaring at Neil. But behind that glare, his eyes are wide and a shadow of worry flickers across his face. Considering how well Andrew hides his emotions, that crack in demeanor betrays him; Neil knows he's scared. Not that the asshole will ever admit that.

Neil walks over to him and presses a hand at the wall next to his head. “So. I might have underestimated how insane Riko is.”

“You think?”

“A little bit.”

“I hate you.”

Neil smiles. “So you keep saying.”

Andrew grips Neil’s waist and pulls him close. “I hate you so much.” Andrew presses his head against Neil’s shoulder.

“You were worried.”

“No such thing,” Andrew mumbles against Neil’s shoulder. 

Neil huffs a laugh in his hair. The thing is, it doesn’t matter what comes out of Andrew’s mouth. What he really means is written all over his face when he talks to Neil, in every gesture he makes, every touch. Neil reads him like a book. Not that he’s stupid enough to say so. 

“What if I make it up to you," Neil says. 

“Mhm.”

“Wanna dance?”

Andrew huffs a laugh against Neil’s skin. “I don’t dance.”

“Not what I remember, you liar. You can say no.”

Andrew looks up. “Yes.”

Neil pulls him away from the column and lets Andrew lead him away from the Foxes’ table. Neil doesn’t know how long they dance. All he can feel is Andrew’s hands on his waist and his breath against his neck. 

Andrew ghosts a kiss below Neil’s ear. “I was scared.” Neil shivers at the confession.  “Say that thing you wanted to say this morning.”

Neil gently runs his fingers through Andrew’s hair. “I really really like you.”

Andrew kisses him again. “I do, too.” 

Except, Neil is lying. He doesn’t  _ like  _ Andrew. He’s gone on him. Completely. And for the first time, he understands why this is so dangerous; not the reasons his mother gave him, but the truth. If this is over, Neil doesn't know how he would stand it, how he would recover from it. He pulls Andrew in tighter and lets the heat of his body turn that thought to smoke and disappear.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mention of past sexual abuse*  
> *Drake*

Neil watches Andrew as he stares at the TV screen and he knows he doesn’t see a thing from the movie running. His gaze is lost and empty and he’s been like that since the night after the Christmas banquet. A whole week. 

Neil can’t stand it anymore, but there’s nothing he can do except for being here. 

They leave for Oakland tomorrow morning. It’s the first appearance in court for the Spear-Minyard trial and Andrew is a mess since he got that phone call from his cop… friend? Acquaintance? Whatever. 

Neil knows Andrew didn’t plan for the whole thing to go like this. He was supposed to testify and get it over with, not have his name on the top of the prosecution party. He doesn’t understand Andrew’s insistence that Drake would get off easily if he was dead. Dead is dead. Neil has spent almost his entire existence with his life hanging on a very thin threat, and he can’t understand. Being in prison is still alive. It means Drake would still breathe. It means he could get out one day. And what if he  _ doesn’t _ get in jail? What if Andrew loses the trial? 

Death is not easy. Death is permanent. It’s dark and cold and it’s the only thing some people deserve. People like Nathan. Like Lola. 

Neil has never asked Andrew or Stuart for the details about the trial—he’s promised—but he’s not an idiot. Andrew, with his indifferent facade, with his unfazed demeanor, Andrew, who can’t be shattered by anything—falters at the mention of Drake’s name. Neil doesn’t know how Drake has hurt Andrew (and most days he thinks it’s for the best because knowing  _ that  _ might just be the trigger to send him on a murder mission in Oakland) but he knows it’s plenty. 

When Neil’s phone rings, Andrew doesn’t even blink. 

Stuart. 

Neil disentangles himself from Andrew and moves to the opposite end of the couch. He connects the call. 

“Hey, Stuart.”

Stuart huffs. “Can’t you just call me uncle, kid?”

“No. It makes you sound old.”

“I  _ am  _ old.”

“You’re thirty-nine. Get a reality check.”

Stuart laughs. “Alright, little shit. I heard you and Riko had a one-on-one a week ago. Wanna elaborate?”

“Did your boyfriend ask you to scold me or something?”

Andrew turns to look at Neil with his eyebrow raised. 

“Ichirou doesn’t know.”

“Oh, so he  _ is  _ your boyfriend then?” Interesting. What would Riko say if he knew his brother was with another man? The bastard’s homophobia was out of the charts. Everyone knew that. Kevin and Jean most of all. 

“I’m not answering that. So?”

Neil sighs. “Fine. He tried to fuck up with Kevin’s head and manipulate him into going back to the Nest.”

“And you told Kevin you’d call if there was a problem. So why didn’t you?”

“He called you.” Neil runs a hand over his face. He doesn’t care how scared Kevin is, he’d kick his pathetic ass right here and now for this. 

“You know Kevin. Did you really think he wouldn’t? He’d never risk your life if he thought you were in danger and he did. He still does.”

“I’m not in danger.”

“No. But I’d still have preferred a phone call from you instead of finding out from your freaked-out best friend.”

Neil makes a mental note to talk to Kevin about all this. Kevin is losing it. Not that this is a surprise considering all the shit Riko Moriyama has done to him, but he’s been doing great for the last two years. Neil wouldn’t let him go back to his dark place now that they’ve been through the worst. 

“Riko might try something on Kevin again,” Neil says. 

“Ichirou will take care of it. This isn’t all I’m calling about. I’m sending a few men in Oakland while you’re there. Personal security.”

Neil frowns. “I didn’t say I was going.”

“I know your friend has a court appearance in a couple of days and considering you called a favor from me, which you never do, to track down Drake Spear because of him, I get the feeling your friend isn’t going there alone. Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“I’m sending you my men’s profiles so you don’t accidentally stab them for following you or something.”

Neil huffs. “Your faith in me is inspiring. Thanks, Stuart.”

“You’re welcome, kid. Be careful. Spear seems like the kind of guy who will not go down easily. A marine with an army of lawyers… Do you really think a kid who’s spent three years in juvie stands a chance against him? And for sexual abuse? Something he can’t prove in court and—”

Neil’s head buzzes into static. He feels the blood drain off his face. Stuart’s voice is distant background noise and none of the words he says make sense. 

He tries to swallow the lump in his throat but it just won’t move.

“...easier ways to get rid of the… problem, Neil, that’s all I’m saying.”

Neil’s hands are shaking. Andrew looks at him. Something dark dances across his face, barely there for a second and then gone. Neil remembers his face, bruised from that time Drake slammed him into the wall outside of Eden’s. He wishes now he’d pressed that knife a little higher between the bastard's ribs and all the way down to the hilt. 

“Neil?”

Neil forces a deep breath in. “Yeah. I’m here. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a better way to get rid of the problem.”

“Of course, I’m right. Just say the word.”

Andrew squints his eyes. 

“I’ll call you later, Stuart. Thanks for the guard dogs.”

Stuart laughs and hangs up. 

“What?” Andrew stares at Neil without moving. 

“Nothing. Stuart… he… um… sent some of his people. Just in case.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing.”

“Lying doesn’t look good on you, Neil.”

Neil slips his phone in his back pocket and crosses his arms. Good. Might as well conceal the shaking. Most of the time he’s great at shutting down anger, but now it burns like a soft fire inside his chest and he wants to break things. Preferably Drake’s bones. 

“He told me what… Drake’s charged with.”

Andrew furrows his eyebrows. “I thought you’d know by now.”

“You asked me not to ask, I said I wouldn’t. Stuart just… slipped it out.”

Andrew sits closer. “You really never asked him?”

“No. A deal is a deal, Drew. This…” Neil gestures between them, “doesn’t change it.”

“I’m still not going to talk about it.”

“I don’t expect you to. But just so we’re clear, if he doesn’t end up in jail, he’ll end up where he belongs.”

Andrew’s eyes grow a little wider. He understands. Drake Spear doesn’t belong in jail. He belongs six feet under, just like any other child molester to walk this earth. If he doesn’t get Andrew’s justice, he’ll get Neil’s. 

“Neil.”

“You can still change your mind. You don’t have to go through this.”

“I know I don’t have to. I  _ want  _ to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

Andrew leans forward and presses his forehead against Neil’s shoulder. “Sappy bastard.”

He reaches for Neil’s hand and laces their fingers together, and God, Neil wants to destroy anyone who’s ever hurt Andrew. 

*

Oakland SUCKS. No. Really. People are too fucking cheery and Neil hates them all. He spots Stuart’s people from the airport even though they never approach them. They follow Neil’s rental car to the hotel and he doesn’t see them again. But they’re there. The men in casual clothes, with stone faces and zero moral restraints against letting a bullet into someone’s head. 

In the hotel room, Neil takes a shower and finds Andrew eating ice cream on the balcony. There’s a view to the waterfront and at the dusk, the water looks like an oil painting. 

“Hey,” Neil says quietly. “Don’t tell me this is dinner.”

Andrew shifts from the middle of the bench where he’s sitting to make space for Neil. 

“You and your prejudice about ice cream. You might actually like this one. It’s strawberry cheesecake.”

Neil scoffs and sits down. Andrew scoops a spoonful, leans closer, and Neil might hate sweets, but damn it, he’ll eat anything if Andrew feeds it to him like that. He lets Andrew put the sweet nightmare in his mouth. 

There’s something about the way Andrew does things. He can do the same thing over and over and change how it feels with a single look every time. This could be funny. He could make Neil laugh, smearing ice cream on his nose. He could make a snarky remark and gain himself a sassy retort from Neil. But Andrew doesn’t. He runs a finger along Neil’s lip, wipes off a bit of ice cream and licks his finger. And it’s not funny at all because Neil can’t fucking breathe when he does things like this. 

Andrew puts the pint down and presses a hand on the back of Neil’s neck. His eyes burn, but behind the usual hunger that flickers there when Andrew has his hands on Neil, there’s something more. Something Neil can’t place. 

Andrew bites his jaw softly and whispers, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” 

Andrew pulls him closer. He kisses Neil like he wants to steal the air from his lungs. And Neil _wants_ , _wants_ , _wants_ ; he’ll give Andrew everything. But then Andrew’s hands slip under Neil’s shirt and wander across his skin, and his kisses get messier, harder, sloppy. Andrew is the solid one. Always. Every touch, every move he makes is grounded, encompassing, self-assured, and this… This is not. His hands travel down to the laces of Neil’s sweatpants and he can swear Andrew’s shaking. Neil is used to having his head foggy with Andrew’s mouth on him, he’s used to floating high, but the part of his brain that usually shuts down when Andrew touches him, lights in red alert. 

Something’s wrong, and he doesn’t care if Andrew initiated this, it’s still wrong. He pulls back. 

“Drew, wait.” Andrew stills. Neil cradles his chin. “Is everything okay?”

Andrew’s face is scarily blank. “Is this a no?”

“It’s not a yes for you, so… yeah. It’s a no.”

Andrew squints his eyes. “I didn’t say no, Neil.”

“You didn’t really have to. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I hate you,” Andrew hisses. And this time it’s not laced with warmth and want, it’s shaky and angry, and Andrew doesn’t wait to see Neil’s reaction to it. He heads for the balcony door. 

Neil stays for a couple of minutes composing himself. The last thing he wants is to push Andrew. And he never would. He wouldn’t ask him about Drake or about the armbands, which he never takes off, not even in the hospital when Riko hurt him. But this time Neil’s involved. The thought that Andrew would’ve kept going if Neil didn’t say anything makes him want to throw up. 

Neil takes a few deep breaths and walks in. Andrew sits in the bed, holding his knees to his body. He pins Neil with a darkened stare. 

“I want to talk about this, Drew.”

Andrew drops his chin over his knee. “Will you come to bed?” His voice is velvet-soft. 

Neil climbs in the bed and sits in front of Andrew. He offers his hand. Andrew Minyard might say whatever the hell he wants, and pretend he has a black hole instead of a heart for everyone else, but Neil knows it’s all a bunch of lies. Andrew hesitates two seconds before he entwines their fingers together. 

“You’re not okay,” Neil says before Andrew decides to lie about it. 

“I’m not okay.”

“Can I do anything?”

“Come here.” Andrew pulls him closer. His hands on Neil are tender and careful even as he manhandles him to turn him around and press Neil’s back against his own chest. Neil lets him. When it’s Andrew, giving up control is not a scary thing. It’s safe. 

Neil drops his head back on Andrew’s shoulder. He doesn’t know how long they stay like this. It’s completely dark outside when Andrew’s fingers start running slow paths through Neil’s hair. The blond places a soft kiss on the side of Neil’s head. 

“Thank you,” he whispers in his hair. Neil isn’t that stupid to ask what he’s saying it for. “I never trusted anyone like that before. I want you to know that.”

“I know that.”

“I just… I didn’t want you to know about Drake because… It’s not because I was... “ Andrew sighs and presses his forehead on the back of Neil’s head. “I didn’t want you to think I was broken.”

Was that what he was trying to prove earlier? Was he trying to prove that to Neil or to himself? Either way, he has nothing to prove, and Neil says just that. 

“You’re not broken, Drew. I don’t think there’s anything that can break you.”

“You don’t know… You don’t… I don’t wear the armbands to hide knives in them, Neil. I… I used to… ”

Neil covers Andrew’s hand where he’s placed it over Neil’s thigh, and brushes his knuckles with his thumb. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what Andrew covers with the armbands. 

“Do you think  _ I’m _ broken?”

Andrew tenses. “What?”

“You’ve seen my scars. It’s easy to guess how I got most of them. I can tell you what Nathan did to me in that basement if you want. Do you think I’m broken?”

“No,” Andrew says, his breath brushing Neil’s nape. 

“And why not?”

“It’s not…” A huff tickles Neil’s hair. “Because you sur—”

“Because you survived. It’s the same answer for you, too, Drew. You’re not broken because you survived.”

Andrew kisses the side of Neil’s neck. “I still hate you.”

“Yeah? Everything about me?”

“Every inch of you.”

Neil laughs as Andrew drags him down. They lie nose to nose, Andrew’s hand on Neil’s waist. Neil is drifting off when Andrew slides down a notch and buries his head against Neil’s chest. Heat dances across Neil’s skin when Andrew’s breath soaks through the fabric of his shirt. 

“Neil.”

“Mhm?”

“Stay. Stay with me.”

Neil brushes his fingertips along Andrew’s hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~

There are too many people. Higgins talks to the lawyer and Andrew wonders for a millionth time how he let himself get dragged into this? 

Right. Right. He’s doing it for every next kid Cass Spear will take in her house. Higgins said she still does it. 

Andrew sits in a spot in the front row, blocking out the noise. His tie feels like a rope around his neck waiting for his feet to give out and cut his air supply entirely. Drake is staring at him. Andrew doesn’t even have to look. The familiar feeling of Drake Spear’s dark gaze raking through his body raises the hair on the back of Andrew’s neck. 

Drake pleads not guilty. No surprise there. 

Andrew blocks out the rest. 

In the end, they have a pre-trial date, and he’s finally out and he can’t fucking breathe. 

Drake walks out of the courtroom like he owns the place. He's free to go wherever he wants. They let him out on bail after they pressed the charges. Andrew is considering sending Stuart Hatford a fucking 'thank you' card for the guard dogs. Drake's lawyers are visibly pissed, but that must be a good sign. For Andrew, that is. 

The first thing Andrew registers when he finally catches his breath is the arctic blue of Neil’s eyes. 

The second is his twin’s startled gaze. 

Fuck. 

Anger rises in his chest like a tidal wave. If Neil brought Aaron here… No. He wouldn’t. Fuck. 

“Neil what the fuck is —”

“I didn’t tell him anything.”

Aaron leans back against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Nicky told me you’re going to Oakland for some ‘court stuff’." He does very animated air quotes. "Considering your record, I’m not out of line thinking you did something. Possibly to Neil.”

Neil snaps his head so fast his neck cracks. “ _ What _ ?”

“What is this about, Andrew?” Aaron ignores Neil. 

“You already seem to have a bunch of ideas all by yourself. Why bother asking? Pick one and get the fuck out of here.”

Fury burns on Neil’s face. 

“Neil,” Andrew says softly.

Neil looks at Aaron as if he’s a breath away from tearing his head off. 

“Neil. He’s an idiot and we’re in a courthouse.”

Neil glares at Aaron. 

“Look at me.”

Neil pokes a finger against Aaron’s chest. “You know, dick, you can hate each other all you want, but drag me into your fucked up delusions again and we’re done.”

Aaron visibly pales. “Neil, I didn’t mean—”

“He’d never hurt me. Try to beat this into your head and maybe use your second brain cell before you open your mouth.”

Aaron sighs. “Fine. What are you here for, then, brother?” The mockery in his voice is infuriating. 

“What Nicky said. Court stuff.”

“Fuck you, Andrew! You can’t just… drag Neil into this shit. Whatever you did, you—”

“Look at that,” a voice cuts behind Andrew.

His breath catches in his throat. He wants to sink into the floor and disappear. 

“Aaron, I presume,” Drake says. 

Neil pulls Andrew by the hand and pushes him behind him like some kind of annoying teenage-novel white knight. Andrew’s mind freezes. What if… What if Drake hurts Neil to get to him? He’ll never forgive himself if the sick fuck touches Neil because of him. 

“Who the fuck are you,” Aaron says. 

Drake licks his lips and huffs a small laugh. “I’m sorry we never got to meet, Aaron. I would have loved to but Andrew went a little bonkers before we ever could. Shame.”

Andrew barely manages to suppress the sound pushing at his throat. He’s wished many times that his memory would fail him, that it would erase at least a fraction of the things he doesn’t want to remember. But it doesn’t work like that. Every detail is seared in his mind like a hot iron scar. 

He sees it all as if it happened minutes ago. Drake holding a piece of paper with Aaron’s address on it. The look on his face. The lies he spit to Cass, begging her to find Aaron, to reconnect Andrew with his brother because it was the right thing to do. The last night Andrew spent in the Spear house, Drake’s disgusting breath in his ear, telling him in detail what he would do to Andrew and Aaron if they were both in the same bed. 

Andrew stole Drake’s car the next day and crashed it into a convenience store before he ‘attempted’ an armed robbery. That, and holding a gun to someone’s head was enough to send him to juvie. But Drake never got his filthy hands on Aaron. 

Aaron is many things, most of them bad, but he doesn’t deserve that. No one does.

“I’ll see you soon, little brother,” Drake says and disappears down the corridor. 

Andrew feels the cold wall behind his back but nothing else. The floor spins. Someone’s voice is calling his name. Shit. This is the worst time to lose it. 

Neil stands in front of him, one hand pinning his shoulder to the wall, the other cupping his cheek. 

“Drew.”

Andrew focuses on the crystal blue. His new favorite color. 

“Breathe with me,” Neil says and presses Andrew’s hand against his own chest. 

Andrew takes a dozen shaky breaths before he feels the floor under his feet again. He leans against Neil’s shoulder. 

“Want to sit down?” Neil murmurs so softly Andrew wants to melt in the sound. 

“No. I’m okay.”

Neil sighs. “Did he… did he ever threaten to—”

“Yes. Shut up.” God, he hates how quickly Neil picks up on everything. Especially now that Aaron is in an earshot length. 

“Will someone tell me what the fuck this is a—”

“Aaron, get the fuck out of here. I’m serious. This isn’t about you.” Neil is fuming. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what this is about.”

Stupid, stupid, stubborn piece of shit! Andrew is tired. So fucking tired. He’s tired of his own mind playing every horrible thing that ever happened to him on an endless loop. He’s tired of the wall he’s built around himself. He’s tired of that whole hate thing. 

So when Neil touches the back of his hand, so devastatingly soft, he lets the wall crack. Just a little. Just enough to say the words. 

“Drake was my foster brother. One of many. He… abused me.” Neil’s hand shivers against his own, but Andrew keeps talking. “When he found out about you, he wanted my foster mother to find you so you can visit me. So he can do this to both of us. He was obsessed with it. I crashed his car in a store and got in juvie and he never got to meet you. But they kept fostering children, and he kept doing this to all of them. And none of them will talk. So. It was either this trial with me involved or nothing. That’s what this is. Happy?”

Aaron looks like a ghost. “He… What are you… Did he…”

“I’m not going to spell it out for you.”

The sound Aaron makes is not human. He takes a few steps back and bolts for a trash bin down the corridor. Barely makes it. 

Well, that he deserves. A little. Andrew hopes he pukes his insides out. 

He closes his eyes for a second, pushing down the retching noises coming from Aaron, and presses his forehead against Neil’s head. 

“You little shit,” he mumbles. “I talked to my idiot brother. Are you happy?”

Neil huffs a weak laugh. “Not _exactly_ what I was aiming for, but… A little.”

Aaron stays on his knees, heaving. Andrew does hate him. For everything he did to him, God, he  _ does _ . But it’s Aaron. He went to juvie for him. He killed Tilda. For him. It’s a very thin line when it comes to Aaron and Andrew is uncomfortably leaning closer to the non-hating side of it. He hates him for that, too. 

This isn’t the first time after everything went to hell between them for Andrew to find his way to his brother. But it never lasted. This time, he feels in his guts, it’s different. 

Something’s shifted. 

Andrew kisses the side of Neil’s head. Ah, shit, this is becoming a thing for him now. 

“Go check if that idiot’s dying.”

Neil smiles and rolls his eyes. 

Andrew can't help but wonder: what if the shift lasts this time? 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **smut**  
> *arson*  
> *Riko is an asshole*

The first time Neil celebrated Christmas was when he was sixteen. It was him and Stuart, and Jean and Kevin, and nothing in his life before that moment came close to the sweet, domestic happiness he felt that day. That year set a tradition. Stuart called it a friendship thing then. Neil calls it a family thing. 

Last Christmas, Neil flew to California with Kevin to spend it with Jean. Even Stuart showed up for a few hours. This year, Jean is in Kevin’s room, which is perfect, because Andrew is in Neil’s bed. Funny how things align perfectly sometimes, not that Neil’s had a lot of experience with things being just good. 

There are two days left until Christmas. Nicky is flying to Palmetto with Erik tomorrow and, according to Andrew, ‘planning something atrocious’ for the twins, which in normal people’s terms probably means just a Christmas dinner. Nicky invited Neil, Kevin and Jean, too. 

Andrew lies on his stomach in Neil’s bed, nibbling on Christmas gummy bears and reads out the card on the box Stuart sent to Neil the day before. 

“ _ Have fun, kiddo. Don’t stab anyone, though. Love, Stuart. P.S: Pretend this is Santa. _ ” Andrew bursts out a laugh. “What does he think you are, five?”

“Five-year-olds don’t get custom-made knives.”

“Five-year-olds don’t get  _ any  _ knives, Neil.”

Neil huffs a laugh and throws himself on the bed. “Apparently, you haven’t met my relatives.”

“Luckily for them.” Andrew drops the box with the knife in it on the floor. 

Neil props himself on his elbow and smirks. “Yes, yes, you’re scary. Menacing. Sinister. Dange—”

Andrew presses a finger against his lips. “Shut. Up.” He mimics Neil’s pose and lies face-to-face with him. 

There’s a change. Something so subtle in Andrew’s face that Neil wouldn’t notice if he hasn’t spent so much time staring at it. It’s not like the twins talk to each other now. Not exactly. But there’s something in motion there, and Neil might keep his mouth shut about it but he sees the effect it has on Andrew. 

“Staring,” Andrew says. 

“You’re in my face. You can’t exactly complain.”

“I’m not.” Andrew runs his fingers along Neil’s cheekbone. Those softest touches are Neil’s favorite. Andrew isn’t soft with anyone, but here, behind closed doors, he touches Neil like he’s made of glass. 

Neil leans in, “Yes or no?”

Andrew kisses him half-way through his  _ yes _ . The thing about Andrew is that he does everything like he plays on the court, even though it might cause the deepest frown line on his forehead to admit that. He’s sure, confident, no hesitation about what he’s doing. Neil loves it. 

Andrew pushes him down and climbs on top of him, his hands traveling under Neil’s shirt. Neil hums and nods in approval and the blond pulls the shirt over his head. His kisses spill down Neil’s neck. Wet warmth trails down his collar bone. Andrew flicks his tongue over one of Neil’s nipples and his body jerks up at the feeling. 

_ Everything _ . He loves everything Andrew does to him. 

Andrew’s fingers hook on the waistband of Neil’s pants and he looks up. 

“Yes, Drew, yes, yes, yes.” Neil’s blabbering but at this point, it takes that little to get him there. And Andrew fucking knows that, the rat bastard. 

Neil wonders sometimes if he would ever make Andrew feel like _this_ , if he would even know how. Not that he’d ever push him to go further than Andrew wants to, but he likes to think about what it would be like. Andrew slides his hands down, pushing Neil’s pants and boxers off his hips. 

It’s slow and hot and Andrew’s hands move against Neil’s skin with deliberate precision, drawing shameless moans out of him that Neil never thought he was capable of. Andrew kisses his navel, bites softly at the hip bone and his eyes never leave Neil’s face. 

He wraps his fingers around the base of Neil’s cock, working him loosely up and down. The hazel of his eyes is a wildfire. Andrew doesn’t look away. Not when he licks a hot stripe on the underside of Neil’s cock. Not when he takes the tip between his lips. 

Neil grips small fistfuls of the sheets and drops his head down. He can barely breathe. Pleasure washes over his body in waves. 

Andrew pulls himself up and pins his elbows at the side of Neil’s head. His eyes are dark and intense and burning a path right to Neil’s soul. 

“I want to try something today,” Andrew says. 

Neil lets out a half-choked ‘yes’.

“I want…” Andrew swallows thickly. “I want…” 

Neil pulls together what little is left of his brains. “Hey.” He pushes himself up and kisses him softly. “You can tell me anything.”

Andrew kisses him, deep and wet and hot, and Neil’s mind blanks out again. When Andrew breaks the kiss, Neil whines at the loss of heat. 

“I want us to get off together,” Andrew says against the soft skin behind Neil’s ear. 

Neil swallows. “Yes. Yes, I… how do you want to do it?”

Andrew sits back and pulls his shirt over his head and… fuck. This is all very unfair. It’s not like Neil hasn’t seen Andrew with his shirt off before but never like that, never so close, never while they’re doing  _ this _ . Andrew’s fingers hover over the zipper of his pants, staring at Neil as if he’s trying to figure the answer to a puzzle. 

“Drew, you don’t have to do this if—”

“I know.” Andrew pulls the zipper down and leans over Neil. “I want to. I really, really want to. I trust you, Neil. And I want all of this. With you.”

The press of Andrew’s lips against Neil’s is softer this time, sweet and reassuring. The blond adjusts his position between Neil’s legs and presses their bodies flush. The feel of Andrew’s erection against his own drags out a low, uncontrolled groan out of Neil. Andrew pushes his hips forward. His head falls over Neil’s shoulder where Neil could feel every hitch in his breath, every suppressed moan as the thrusts grow faster. 

He wants to tell Andrew he doesn’t need to hold back with him, but all that comes out of his mouth is a needy whine as Andrew thrusts again. Neil’s heart goes rabbit fast. He weaves his fingers through Andrew’s hair, reveling at the pure pleasure that hits his spine when Andrew lets out a quiet moan. 

Andrew bites and kisses and licks Neil’s neck, and everything turns liquid and hazy, all-consuming heat and friction. 

Neil’s resolve to hold on until Andrew comes first flies out the window. He’s barely dangling on the edge. 

“Andrew,” Neil whines. 

Andrew pushes himself up, both hands pressed on the sides of Neil’s shoulders. He takes Neil’s hand and leads it down between their bodies. Neil’s pulse skyrockets. 

It’s one thing to fantasize about Andrew, about him being naked, about running his tongue along Andrew's skin, and kissing and licking his… oh, fuck. Neil has done this. A lot. But he didn’t expect the silky texture of his skin when he brushes his fingers along the length of Andrew’s cock. He thinks he’s whining again. He doesn’t really care. 

Objectively, he knows how to do this. He’s had way too many conversations with Jean not be aware of the mechanics. But now that this is actually happening, his brain is flooded with endorphins and he could be fucking this up for all he knows. 

Andrew guides his hand so Neil is holding them both together and keeps his own hand on top, not controlling, just resting it there and going along with Neil’s movements. 

Neil takes a couple of experimental strokes. The pleasure-soaked haze in Andrew’s eyes is enough of a sign to go on.  Neil strokes them, alternating his pace. A soft bubble of light bursts in his chest when Andrew bites his lip, smothering a wrecked moan. Andrew’s arm shakes as he holds himself up. Watching Andrew out of control is Neil’s new favorite thing in the world. 

“Neil,” Andrew gasps and tips his head down. He shudders and spills over Neil’s hand, dragging Neil along over the edge with him. 

Andrew collapses on top of him, his head buried in the crook of Neil’s neck. Coming down from an orgasm high has never taken Neil so long before, not that his experience is impressive or anything. He runs his fingers through Andrew’s hair. His eyelids grow heavy. 

Andrew slides to his side and takes his chin in his hand. “No sleeping before we take a shower.”

Neil whines in protest. 

“Do you want me to drag you there?”

“No. No. My legs won’t work. No shower.”

Andrew bites a laugh against his shoulder. “Idiot. Come on. You can’t sleep like… that.”

“Mmmkay. But kiss me first.”

Andrew does. It’s soft and his fingers in Neil’s hair are so gentle he wants to melt into the mattress. Andrew looks at him like the world starts and ends with him, and this time Neil barely stops the words. He wants to say it, not to prove anything, no, those words are not supposed to be said for proof, or a trick, or a weapon to ground someone in. He wants to say them because they are true. Probably not the best idea when his whole being is floating on a thick dopamine cloud.

Neil brushes Andrew’s cheek and lets him lead him to the bathroom, instead. Andrew keeps watching him like  _ that  _ and maybe… maybe he knows. Maybe Neil doesn’t really need to say it because Andrew already knows. 

  
  


~~~

Andrew’s mind is floating through a loop of dreams with Neil starring in all of them. It’s like everything they did tonight, except, it’s magnified through the glass of Andrew’s pleasure-drenched imagination. 

And then he registers the smoke.

He jumps up and puts a shirt on. Yes, this is definitely smoke. He looks outside of the bedroom window, searching for something burning. Maybe someone set a dumpster on fire or someone’s car is burning. 

It isn’t.

He can’t see anything burning outside. Because it's not  _ outside _ . 

It’s the Fox Tower.

He grabs Neil’s shoulder and shakes him. “Neil, wake up.”

“Mwhat?”

“Up. Now.”

Neil rubs his eyes and slows down for a second, then jumps off the bed as if he’s been stung by bees. 

“The fuck is this?”

“It’s us, it’s the fucking Tower, we have to go now.”

Neil jumps into a pair of pants, puts on a shirt a grabs a duffel bag from his closet. Andrew drags him by the hand because the absolute asshole is acting like the goddamn building isn’t burning down and he has time for a tea break. 

Neil pulls his hand away once they’re in the corridor. The smoke burns in Andrew’s throat. There’s so much of it he doesn’t understand how he didn’t smell it earlier. 

Neil steps back. 

“What are you doing? We need to go now!”

“No, no, no. I can’t. I have to…”

“The fuck are you talking about. Neil, I swear I’ll drag you down the stairs. Go!”

Neil throws the duffel bag over to Andrew. “Get out of here, Drew. I have to check Kevin’s room.”

“ _ What _ ?! No! No, you don’t. They’re grown-ups for fuck’s sake!”

Andrew is absolutely going to murder Neil. 

Neil grabs Andrew’s face between his palms. “Really, you want to waste time in arguing? Go, Drew. I’ll go check, and get them out with me if they’re not out yet. I'll be out in a minute.”

“Neil—”

“Trust me. It’s fine. Now go.”

Andrew takes a deep breath, considers dragging Neil by the hair and then shoves the thought away. He nods and runs down the stairs. 

Neil’s escaped the fucking mafia. Neil’s been taking care of himself for years. Neil’s survived a lot worse than a measly fire in a dorm. 

He’ll be fine. 

Andrew trusts him. 

He does. 

He really does. 

Once he’s outside, he sees the real picture. The fire engulfs the first two floors, crawling up the third. Thick smoke towers up the sky. He can hear the fire trucks. Fire trucks are minutes away from the campus. How fast has the building burned up if they’re only coming now? 

It’s almost like… it is premeditated arson. 

Andrew feels the bile rise to his throat and all he can think about is going back for Neil. He throws the duffel bag on the ground, turns on his heel and heads for the door inside again. 

A hard grip on his shoulder pulls him back.

~~~

Neil bursts Kevin’s door open. The living room is empty and so is the bedroom, and relief floods his body like a tidal wave. 

He bolts for the stairs when a kick slams against his rib cage, sending him to the floor. Neil coughs and he can’t tell if it’s from the smoke or the blow. He looks up, hardly adjusting his focus. He hasn’t seen the man before. 

He’s tall, dark-haired, stone-set face. 

“What’s your fucking pr—”

The man punches Neil’s face. 

Neil tastes blood. And smoke. The combination between both is horrible. He fights through the haze and loses. 

“Riko sends his regards,” the man says. 

He lands another punch at Neil’s face and Neil loses the world. 

  
  


Neil wakes up choking. His lungs burn. He takes a look around. He’s in Kevin’s room and he can bet everything he owns the door is locked. Fuck. 

Neil drenches a towel in the bathroom sink and wrings it up. That should help with the smoke. 

Objectively, what are the chance of survival if he jumps off the fourth floor? Right at this moment, anything sounds better than burning to death.

~~~

Wymack drags Andrew backward until they’re far from the Tower… too far. 

No. He needs to go back. He needs to go back and find Neil and get him out of there. It was a mistake letting him out of sight. 

“Andrew.” Someone shouts his name. 

Andrew turns and… fuck. Kevin. Which means… Which means something happened. Andrew’s hands shake uncontrollably. 

“Where’s Neil?” Kevin’s face pales. 

“He… he was going to check your room and…”

Wymack’s hand on Andrew’s shoulder tightens as if he knows Andrew’s about to make a run for it. 

The fire trucks surround the building. Someone yells at them to move. Someone calls Andrew’s name. 

Everything turns into a thick haze and Andrew can’t pull through. 

Aaron shakes his shoulders and says something, but Andrew can’t make out the words. 

Then he hears the horrible, inhuman sob that tears off Kevin’s throat and he feels the ground opens up beneath his feet. 

Kevin stares at his phones and presses a hand over his mouth. Jean grips his wrist. 

“What is…” Andrew’s voice sounds like it is coming from below ground. “Show me.”

Kevin turns his phone around and Andrew reads the message. 

**Riko [3:27]**

_ Merry Christmas, Kev! The redhead bitch is used to being burned, so that seems fitting, don’t you think? _

Kevin takes a few shaky steps forward and it’s a blessing that Wymack is his father and he’ll always care about Kevin first. He lets go of Andrew and that’s all he was waiting for. He bolts for the door and makes it twenty feet before he’s tackled on the ground. 

Aaron has him pinned down by the shoulders. 

“Let go of me, you fucking imbecile or I swear I’ll kill you!” Andrew practically spits in his face. 

“You’re not going back in.”

Like hell he isn’t! Andrew thrashes beneath his twin, manages to get one arm free and punches the little shit. Aaron grips the free hand and pins his wrist above Andrew’s hand. 

Andrew fights through the panic rising in his chest and something that feels like anger and loss and a hopeless black hole of nothingness. And then another pair of hands is pulling him off the ground and dragging him in an ambulance. 

Someone gives him a shot that makes his head fuzzy and his movements slow and there’s a stethoscope against his chest, and Aaron’s saying words next to him that make absolutely no sense. 

Andrew hears himself as if he’s lifted off his own body and he’s watching someone else talk. 

“Get him… Aaron, you little bitch! I can’t…” He sobs. Or maybe it’s someone else. 

He pushes himself to his feet and makes a few unsteady steps toward the Tower. It’s blackened and dark, and smoke is coming out of it from everywhere. 

And then he sees him. Kevin wrapped in a protective blanket holding Neil on one side, while a fireman holds him on the other. Neil doesn’t move. His eyes are closed and there’s a huge burn on his shirt across his chest. 

Andrew’s knees can’t hold his weight. He slips down to the ground and fights to keep his mind straight but the shot they gave him must have been some kind of sedative. He’s losing the sense of reality. He’s barely in control of his own body. 

He thinks he might be crying and doesn’t care one bit that there are people who can see him. Kevin glues himself to the stretcher where Neil lies. 

Andrew watches the paramedics work from his spot on the ground, unable to move a muscle. Someone holds Andrew up and offers his arm to him. 

Andrew doesn’t even have the strength to threaten the man. He turns to look at him. 

Jean pulls away slightly but keeps a hand pressed on Andrew’s back. “Neil said you hated people touching you but you look like you need the help.”

Kevin runs over to them. His face is a mess. “They’re taking him to the hospital. He’s…” He bites down a sob. “He’s unstable. He inhaled a lot of smoke and has a nasty burn.”

“I need to…” Andrew tries. 

“Man, the fuck did they drug you with?” That’s Jean. Probably. Andrew tries to glare but it’s pathetic at this point. 

“Fuck off. I need to get my car.”

“Easy there, you can’t drive like that.” A voice comes behind him. “I’ll drive him. We’ll meet you there.”

Aaron catches Andrew’s arm and leads him to the parking lot. 

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Andrew mumbles. 

“Yeah? Well, bummer. You’re getting it. Get in the car and just shut up. I can’t believe you’re such an idiot. What were you trying to do, fucking kill yourself?”

Andrew leans his head against the passenger window and pretends Aaron doesn’t exist in the same universe. 

*

It’s been hours. 

Andrew drains five bottles of water trying to get rid of the sedative in his system. Around 8 in the morning, Jean taps his shoulder and nods for him to follow. 

“They’re not letting anyone see him yet, but I argued with them until they decided to,” Jean makes very animated air quotes, “ _ make an exception _ . He’s awake but heavily medicated, so… well, he talks funny when’s high. Don’t hold it against him.”

Andrew enters the room and immediately catches Neil’s crystal blue eyes. 

“Dreeew. Hey. I got… I got a lil burned.”

Andrew grits his teeth. He drags a chair to Neil’s bed and sits down, fighting the tremors in his hands. 

“‘m fine, though,” Neil says in an accent that Andrew can’t place.

“Sure, you are.”

“I am. Look.” Neil taps his fingers against the bandages around his ribcage. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“Cause you’re drugged halfway out of this world, idiot.”

“Oh. That’s why my tongue feels funny. But really, I’m totally fine. Can we go home now? The room smells weird.” Neil’s accent alternates between something resembling British, some French and his usual standard American accent. Jean was right. Neil does talk funny when he’s high. It’s adorable, really.

Andrew wants to kiss the stupid smile on his stupid face and take him home with him now. 

“They’ll keep you a little longer,” Andrew says.

Neil pouts. “Is that why you’re sulking, too?”

“I am not  _ sulking _ .”

“No? What’s with that face then?”

Andrew takes his hand and kisses his knuckles. “You could’ve died. You could’ve… And I let you just… stay behind.”

“Of course, you did. Because I asked you to.”

“And look where this got you.”

Neil brushes his thumb over Andrew’s palm. “I’m fine. If you stayed you would’ve been hurt, too.” He shifts a little to his side and buries his face in the pillow. “Remind me when I’m out of here to stab Riko. Repeatedly.”

Andrew sighs. More than anything he wants to find that bastard and break his neck like a twig. But Neil has told him enough. He knows what would happen if he does that. 

“Don’t you have a criminal boss uncle to deal with this shit?”

“Shh. Shhhhh! That's a secret!”

Andrew huffs a small laugh. 

Neil looks at him. “Jean told me you tried to get back in the Tower.”

Andrew hums. 

“And I thought from the both of us, you were the smart one,” Neil says. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” Andrew whispers the words against Neil’s palm and presses a soft kiss. 

Andrew wanted to say it last night. He did so badly, and yet, he kept the words to himself. But the night turned from having everything he ever wanted to almost losing it all in a heartbeat and he doesn’t want to hold anything back. Not anymore. 

“Neil.” Andrew swallows. Neil looks at him with those huge glacial eyes and his expression is so soft, it melts away any remnant of fear in Andrew’s heart. “I love you.”

Neil blinks a few times and then smiles softly. “Are you saying it cause I almost burned a little bit?”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “You’re a pest.”

Neil chuckles, brings Andrew’s hand to his mouth and kisses the knuckles. “I love you, too. Will you stay with me?”

“Until they kick me out.”

“So dramatic.” Neil laces his fingers with Andrew’s tighter and closes his eyes. 

Andrew’s about to rest his head onto the side of the bed when Neil laughs quietly. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Neil.”

“I thought last night was pretty… heated. I’d say incendiary. But like… can we not set the building on fire the next time we do that?”

Andrew thumps his head onto the bed. “Oh, my God. Just. Shut. Up.”

“You love it.”

“Shut up.”

“You dooo. I think you really…” A yawn. “... love…” Neil drifts off midsentence. 

Andrew watches the slow rise and fall of his chest and he blinks away all the dark thoughts that infest his mind. He could’ve lost it all today. 

But he didn’t. 

He _didn’t_. And that is all that matters.

  
  
  



End file.
